Destiny Calling
by Sophie Myst
Summary: Sookie takes an unusual job; Eric is the shy geek she meets in an elevator. Trying my hand at something new to me: fluffy AH! Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: And now for something completely different. Well, different from what I normally write, in any case: all human, all fluff. Haven't dropped any of the other things I've got going on; I just needed something a bit lighter to be able to work on. I've got the next few chapters already written, and will be posting them every other day or so. Hope you enjoy!

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**Sookie POV**

Today was the first year anniversary of my first day on the job, and what a year it was. I leaned back in my chair at Starbucks and thought about how I had gotten to where I was today.

Before the past year had even started, I'd spent months looking for a job, finally landing a position with the phone company. It was my first phone job. It was a simple customer service gig, but each day had been a special form of hell for me. We had to take an insane number of calls every day; it had been really intimidating at first, but I'd gotten into the swing of things after about two weeks.

At least, as far as the job went. It was roughly half of the customer base that had been a special pain in my ass. I didn't think there was anything all that interesting about my voice, but many of my male callers would have disagreed. Why couldn't I get propositioned that often in real life? It had depressed the hell out of me until my friend Amelia snapped me out of my funk. She'd told me that if I regularly got that much male attention, she'd never be able to pry me out from under my bed. I had to laugh at that; she was right. In person, I could be painfully shy.

I quit my job with the phone company after only a month. I just couldn't take it anymore. The good news was that Amelia, my best friend since kindergarten, and I were roommates. She was my sister from another mister, and what an odd mister that was. Her dad was some big honcho whose job took up all of his time. The man worked anywhere between sixty and seventy hours a week; to make up for his absence in his daughter's life, he threw more money at her than she knew what to do with.

All of that meant that Amelia was more than willing to share her posh pad with me. Bless her heart, she wouldn't even let me look at the bills when I was out of work.

From an outsider's perspective, it would be easy to think of Amelia as the "poor little rich kid," but I knew what a mistake that was. She was brilliant: insightful, witty, and had a very sensitive side. She was also the quirkiest person I knew, which meant we were two peas in a pod.

It was Amelia who'd convinced me to try out for a job (I refused to call it a _position_) with a phone sex hotline. Once she found the ad in the local rag, she hounded me about the idea for days. I finally relented, agreeing to at least go for an interview. With the economy in shambles, I didn't feel like I could be picky; I also knew that an interview wasn't a guaranteed job.

Oddly enough, they didn't want to do an interview over the phone. This was a relief, actually. After all, not only had I never done anything even remotely resembling phone sex, I still had yet to actually _have_ sex. Aside from my month with the phone company, I was about as inexperienced as a person could get for this kind of place.

There hadn't been any receptionist at the door when I got there. I found a little coffee table with some magazines and an old style counter-bell. I tapped it once and took a seat. A few minutes later, a short blonde woman came out, introduced herself as Pamela Ravenscroft, and forbade me to utter a single word.

She said straight off that the first thing she wanted to hear from me was how my voice came through their own phone system. It was a happy coincidence that she'd rendered me speechless with her brusque ways. As she led me through through the office, I took the opportunity to get a close look at my surroundings.

I'd expected the place to be a bit skeevy, but was pleasantly surprised to find it was even cleaner than the call center at the phone company. Not that _that_ would have been a huge challenge. In fact, I couldn't even tell it was a sex hotline call center by the way it looked. The cubicles were fairly large, and the walls were a bit higher and more thickly padded than usual, which helped make the floor quieter. The cubicles I peeked into were decorated with the usual cubicle accoutrements: pictures, posters, stickers, toys, and the occasional fish tank.

The women smiled and waved at Pam as we walked by, and boy howdy, was that surreal. They were moaning, cussing, or saying all sorts of nasty things – and acting like it was no big deal. One girl was knitting something that looked for all the world like a baby blanket, fluffy and pastel pink.

Pam led me into a very sparse room and told me to have a seat; she said she'd give me five minutes to read over the script on the desk and then she would call. She wouldn't be expecting me to interact with her, just read the stuff on the paper. After she closed the door behind her, I sat and took a look at the pages.

Holy hand baskets, my Gran would have rolled over in her grave to hear me – or _anyone_, for that matter – say those things.

I was no stranger to scripted phone calls; we'd had to do it in the customer service department. My supervisor had said I was a natural for making it sound like it wasn't reading from a paper.

When the phone rang, Pam had me do two or three read-throughs. Given the harsh tone of her voice whenever she spoke, I figured I was tanking this one, and _bad_. She even hung up on me!

Barely a minute after hearing the phone slam down on the other end, Pam burst through the door, demanding to know how soon I could start. She looked like _she_ was ready to proposition me.

A few days later, I started my training. The first week, I listened in on the other girls' calls. Part of that was to give me a good idea of how the calls went, but mostly it was to break me in. To get me used to the idea of what exactly I'd be doing. There were some very specific rules, "no emotional involvement" being the second biggest one. That was completely fine by me. There were scripts we could use if we had trouble coming up with things to say. Most of the time, the customers had their own ideas about what they wanted us to say.

Most importantly: we never used our real names. Some of the girls came up with their own, but I was stumped. When Pam found out that I was having trouble coming up with a name, she snorted and without hesitation, she had one for me: Destiny.

As she put it, "With a voice like _that_, you were destined for this line of work."

While I cringed more than a little at the idea that God's plan for me involved talking guys through a decent wank, I decided it wasn't such a bad name. When I went home that night, I told Amelia about my new pseudonym. She said it had a "classy exotic dancer" ring to it; she'd know, far better than I.

Six months later, I was in the top ten requested operators. Some of the other girls really didn't like that, especially a redhead named Arlene. She'd been there for years, and had long been in the top five. I tried to avoid the competitive aspect of the job. There was something of a revolving door, here. A lot of women just couldn't cut it, and I couldn't blame them. Any sort of phone work was difficult, but this was really out there.

It was fun, in some ways. Occasionally we'd get some really creepy callers, but if anything got out of hand, we were allowed to terminate the calls after giving the customer three warnings. There were special, soundproofed rooms for callers who wanted screamers. We didn't get those often, but taking a screamer call meant we had a guaranteed break afterward; fifteen minutes and a cup of hot lemon tea with honey, and we'd be back on the phones.

Our phones had little LED screens on them. With each call, a code flashed on the screen to let us know if the caller had any special interests or requests: moaning, swearing, naughty, nice... the list went on.

One of the nicer perks of the job was that we were allowed to wear whatever we wanted. Pam wanted us to be comfortable; she maintained that the numbers went through the roof when she experimented with revoking the dress code.

I spent my days crocheting, cross-stitching, or sometimes even reading novels while I took calls. I barely needed to think about what I was saying anymore. It wasn't so much that talking dirty came naturally to me, it was more that I'd gotten used to what I was doing. On days where I was off my game, I could still coast on the sound of my voice alone.

A year later, I was in the top five.

Amelia was amazed that I'd taken the job at all. On a lark, she had me record the greeting for her voice mail. Every now and then, the men she'd given her number to would leave some very amusing messages. Stuttering was the most common response.

The sound of a horn honking outside of the Starbucks pulled me out of my thoughts.

I sighed, looking at my watch. My lunch break was almost over. I took another sip of my chai latte and stretched, not wanting to go back to work. As much as I might like my job, this chair was really quite comfortable.

Pam was lenient about a lot of things, but being late was not one of them. I picked up my drink and started walking back towards the building where I worked. One of the other things I really appreciated about this job was that it was located in a swanky building in downtown Atlanta. The name on the door was simply listed as Ravenscroft Industries, the parent company under which Pam ran the hotline. There were a bunch of different hotline numbers that all came in to our call center, and the names of them varied from the sensual to the ridiculous.

Best of all, none of the suits who stomped the hallways in their high heels and leather shoes had any idea what went on behind our doors. They did tend to look at us a bit oddly, as they were all dressed in business outfits, while we were wearing anything from jeans to pajamas. For the most part, we ignored each other.

I never conversed with any of them. Working at a phone sex hotline had changed the way I spoke; I didn't really notice it, but Amelia frequently commented on how I sounded more and more like a sex kitten every week. If anything, it made me that much more shy in person.

When I got to the elevator, there was only one other person waiting there. He turned to look at me as I approached; I smiled, but he gave me a brief up-and-down glance before looking away. Damn shame he was a snob: he was kind of cute. He was insanely tall, had short blond hair and striking blue eyes. No doubt he was used to getting any woman he wanted; he was one of the most attractive men I'd ever seen.

Not like that was saying much, wallflower that I was.

There was a ding just before the elevator doors opened. A stream of people emerged, and then Mr Snobby Britches and I boarded. Since I was feeling a bit impish, I decided to mess with him. He was standing closer to the button panel than I was.

He didn't even look my way when he spoke. "What floor?"

That was my cue; in a husky voice, I said, "Third floor, if you would be so kind."

I don't know what kind of reaction I'd been expecting, but it wasn't the one I got: his eyes closed, his jaw muscles flexed slightly, and he gulped.

Score. _Take that, you smarmy suit._

If there was one thing I'd learned to seriously dislike in my call center days, it was the suits who felt they were so superior to everyone else. All they cared about were the numbers: the ones from our calls and the ones in their bank accounts. Suits and reps – the representatives - didn't mix, not ever. Experience told me that they liked us even less than we liked them.

Pam was different, and the rest of the girls and I loved that about her. She dressed up when she came to work, but rumor had it she dressed up when she was going to the grocery store.

It was all I could do to not laugh at the cute suit as he pressed the button for the third floor. He looked like he was about to have an aneurysm; either the poor guy was having a really bad day, or I'd thrown him for a loop.

I hoped it wasn't the former. I might be mischievous, but I never liked being mean. I watched him take a deep breath and exhale slowly. He raised a hand and smoothed back his hair as if he was nervous; he was probably on his way to some big important meeting.

The elevator dinged again when we reached the third floor. I walked out, stopped just outside the door. Turning back towards him, I spoke again, this time using a slightly less-sexy voice.

"You have a nice day now."

He gaped at me as the double doors slid closed.

With a giggle, I turned on my heel and walked back into the office. I made it back to my cubicle with two minutes to spare.

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A/N, part two: I've done a lot of phone work before, but I've never done that particular kind of phone work; if I've hideously mucked anything up, that's totally on me. Wanted to give that disclaimer at the top, but didn't want to give anything away. Hee!

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Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I love how much you all love this story. Thank you for the lovely reviews - they make me all sorts of smiley and gleeful. Writing this story has a similar effect. Is good times. Hope you enjoy this next chapter!

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**Eric POV**

If my brains had been at all in my head that day, I would have stopped those elevator doors from closing.

I would have gotten her name. Hell, I would have at least poked my head out to see which office she'd gone into.

The interview that I'd been there for had gone well. So well, in fact, that I was now employed in the same building where that woman worked. I'd almost taken it as a sign.

The first time I'd seen her was, unfortunately, the only time. I'd been too lost in my own head to properly respond outside of it.

I could still remember every last detail of what she'd looked like: long blonde hair that curled past her shoulders, blue eyes that sparkled mischievously, and curves that most women would have tried to stifle with salads and diet sodas. No, this woman sipped a chai latte; it was written on the side of the cup, and I could recall the distinct smell of it. She was almost a full foot shorter than I was, but at over six feet, I was used to that.

It made me cringe to think about how awkward I'd felt, especially after hearing her speak. I'd been so distracted by the job interview that I was headed for, I'd probably come off as rude. I had a tendency to get lost in my own head whenever I was focused on something.

After getting the position in the IT department of DeCastro Technologies, I looked forward to being able to see that woman again. It wasn't until almost a week later that I'd realized it might never happen. Based on the way she'd been dressed, it was possible she didn't even work here. No matter the company, almost everyone in the building wore suits to work. Aside from what I figured were visiting girlfriends, the most casual folks I saw were fellow techies; we tended to stick with button-down shirts and khakis.

She'd been wearing a pair of blue and green plaid flannel pants and a black t-shirt, like a college co-ed on laundry day. Add a pair of fuzzy slippers, and she would have been the ultimate snuggle-magnet.

Shit. Knowing my luck, she was probably only here to visit her boyfriend. If she'd been wearing any kind of employee badge, I hadn't seen it.

I had no problems attracting women. Keeping them was another matter entirely. With the way I looked, the smart girls always figured I'd think myself too good for them. I couldn't stand the ones with empty heads. I liked my women with meat on their bones and brains between their ears.

In the few spare moments I had at work, I checked to see what other companies were in the building. My focus was on the third floor: that was where she'd gotten off the elevator. There were four different companies there: a dentist, some accountants, a small trading company, some generic sounding place whose purpose was unclear.

She couldn't have been going to the dentist, not after drinking something sugary from Starbucks. She didn't dress like an accountant or stock broker. Unfortunately, I couldn't find much about Ravenscroft Industries; it was a parent company, and the way it was organized, the people working there could have been anything from IT consultants to chicken farmers.

As much as I wanted to see her again, I couldn't exactly go knocking on random doors trying to find her. Not when I was so new at my own job, so easily replaceable.

No, I'd have to just keep hoping to catch sight of her in the lobby or the elevators.

In the meantime, my job went quite well. DeCastro Technologies had hired me to be their primary VoIP tech. Voice over IP phone technology wasn't new, but a lot of companies still thought of it as such. Niall, the man who they'd brought me into replace, was retiring soon. While he was supposed to be the one training me, he told me right up front that he figured I'd know all of that "phone stuff" better than he did. Since I'd been working with VoIP a year or two longer than he had, he was right; it meant that most our conversations tended toward the casual.

I liked it well enough, but all tech jobs tended to blend together after a while. The people, places and network names might vary, but the technologies were the same. I made sure the phone system was running smoothly, and aside from the occasional project, that was the extent of it.

It gave me far too much time to think about the beautiful woman with the amazing voice. The more I didn't see her, the more I wanted to; after several weeks of nothing, I was starting to give up hope.

Every day at lunch, I went to the little trio of shops just across the street. There was an Italian place with great pizza, a Subway, and the Starbucks where my mystery woman must have gotten her beverage. Every day, I went back to my desk without having seen her. With each day that passed, I wondered more and more if I was starting to get obsessed. Wanting to see an attractive woman was one thing; haunting all of the places where she might be...

Well, that was another thing entirely. I sighed over my slice of pizza and figured perhaps next week I would start bringing my lunch. Or maybe I'd find another set of restaurants. This couldn't possibly be healthy. After finishing my food, I walked in daze back to the building.

And then I saw her again.

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**Sookie POV**

It was my first day back on a daytime shift, and I was having the hardest time keeping my eyes open. For the past month, I had been temporarily covering one of the night shift positions. One of the long-term girls was on family leave, something about a sick relative. Since she hadn't left the company altogether, Pam decided to pull one of us from the day shift instead of bringing in someone entirely new. I had volunteered, just for a chance of pace.

Pam had been itching to get me working a later shift, saying it would be good for business, but after a month of it I decided Never Again. I was relieved when she didn't pressure me about it; she said she would rather have me there during the day than have me not there at all.

The day shift was easier, since we took fewer calls. Most of them came through in the evening and at night. Since we didn't work on commission, I preferred the day shift. Most of us did, even though there was a pay differential for the later shifts.

When I was getting ready for work that morning, I'd just grabbed whatever was clean; it wasn't until I got to work that I realized none of it matched. Pam had called out to me as I'd passed her office door. I went back and leaned against the door frame to see her gaping at me.

"Morning, Pam. What's up?"

"Sookie, tell me you didn't leave the house wearing... _that_."

I yawned as I looked down at my long pajama pants with the little rocket ships. "What? It's not that bad."

"Bless your heart, it's your first day back from third shift, isn't it? Poor thing. No worries: all is forgiven. And there's plenty of coffee in the break room."

I waved as I walked off and made sure to get a giant cup of coffee before going to my cubicle. It turned out to be a fairly quiet day; the calls just weren't coming in. As tired as I was, I would have preferred to keep busy. More calls would have made the hours go by faster.

During my lunch break, I stumbled into the break room and glared at the coffee maker. Realizing that I needed something stronger, I went back to my cube, grabbed some cash out of my purse and made my way to Starbucks.

As I was waiting at the counter, I turned around and looked outside. It was _way_ too bright out there. I hadn't felt this bad since the morning after Amelia's twenty-first birthday. Just as I was about to turn around, I noticed a familiar face sitting at one of the tables. It took me a minute, in my sleepy state, to place where I'd seen him before.

It was the cute suit I'd teased in the elevator. Well, _well_. He wasn't wearing a suit today. His hair almost glowed in the sunlight. At one point he seemed to look at me, but then he looked back down at his food. With it being lighter outside than inside, he probably couldn't see this far into the store.

"Triple shot espresso!" called out the girl behind the counter. I turned around to grab my coffee, and turned back just in time to see the cute suit stand up to leave. He looked like he was having a bad day, just like last time. Either he was terminally grumpy, or the poor guy just couldn't get a break. Maybe I wouldn't tease him next time.

I left the cafe and started walking back towards the darker confines of the office building. The grumpy cute suit had a good head start on me, probably on account of his long legs, but he'd had to stop at the crosswalk to wait for the light to change. I caught up and stood next to him, about two feet away. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, so I sipped my coffee and waited for the little "WALK" sign to light up.

When the light changed, he zoomed on ahead of me. I started walking at my own pace; it would have taken way too much energy to keep pace with him. While I'd thought of him occasionally over the past month, it wasn't like I even knew his name. There was no logical reason for me to try to keep up, so I ambled along at a casual stroll.

It was really hard to keep myself from laughing; the poor guy just kept getting held up. First the traffic light, then a mild traffic jam at the revolving door at the front of the building. I got inside just in time to see him waiting at the back of a large crowd in front of the elevators.

I'd forgotten how busy it was during the lunch hour rush.

Having no desire to cram myself in a lift full of stuffy suits, I waited at the back, just behind everyone else. As luck would have it, the next elevator was able to fit everyone except me and the grumpy, golden-haired, cute suit fellow.

I almost hoped I didn't find out his name. It was kind of fun to see how many adjectives I could string together for him.

I took another sip of my coffee, and in my smoothest move ever, started choking. He turned to look at me, which of course made me feel that much more conspicuous about being one of Darwin's rejects. Naturally, the more I tried to stifle the coughing, the worse it got. My phone voice was going to be extra husky this afternoon, damn it.

"You!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide.

That stopped my coughing almost immediately. "Me?"

"You... I... um..." He frowned slightly before extending a hand. "Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Northman. Eric, I mean. I'm Eric Northman. Hi."

I cleared my throat and reached out to shake his hand. We each jumped slightly as we got a slight shock; the static electricity in this place could be fierce sometimes.

"Hi Eric, I'm Sookie."

"Nice to meet you, Sookie."

"Can I have my hand back?" I asked, trying not to giggle. He looked so flustered as he glanced down and saw that his huge hand was still engulfing my tiny one.

"Oh, sorry. I just... So, are you visiting someone here?"

"What? No, I work here." It was an odd question, but he was kind of an odd duck.

The elevator dinged; there was no one inside, but he stuck a hand in the doors to keep them open as I walked into the lift. He followed me in and hit the buttons for our respective floors. I was surprised that he remembered I was on the third floor.

We shared an awkward silence once the doors closed; that's what elevators are for, after all. Well, that and the occasional fantasy of the people I spoke to for a living. He was obviously trying not to stare, and I wondered how ridiculous my rocket ship pajama pants must have looked to him.

"I work for DeCastro Technologies," Eric said, breaking the silence. "Where do you work?"

"Oh, ah..." I hesitated, not keen on 'fessing up about what I did. "I work for Ravenscroft Industries. Phone stuff."

He inhaled sharply just as the damn lift dinged again. My stop.

"You work on phones?" he asked. For some reason, that seemed to set him at ease.

I paused before answering. "In a manner of speaking. No pun intended."

"Oh, but puns are always better when they're intended." He gave me a brilliant smile; it struck me how gorgeous he was when he did that. I'd seen that he was attractive, but that smile of his... it gave me an odd fluttery feeling in my belly.

Or maybe I'd had too much coffee. Yes, that had to be it.

The doors started to close. "See you around, Eric."

His smile grew brighter at that. "I look forward to it, Sookie."

I walked back to my cubicle feeling out of sorts, but not in any way that felt related to sleep deprivation. Frowning at my half-drunk cup of espresso, I chucked it into the bin under my desk. I'd rather struggle to stay awake than get sick from bad coffee.

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Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hopefully people are still reading, but silly ol' FFnet has that whole borked hit counter thing going on, so I can't be sure. In any case, I'm still having fun with this. Hope you are, too. :)

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**Sookie POV**

Over the course of the next two weeks, running into Eric became a regular part of my day. Almost every time I ran into him, it was in or around the elevators. We both got to work at the same time, but our lunches varied; one of us was usually getting back just as the other was leaving. We didn't see each other at the end of the day, but the way he talked about his job led me to believe that he had longer hours than I did.

In those brief meetings, I'd learned that he did some kind of phone work as well, but it was more on the technical side of things. At first he assumed that we did the same type of "phone stuff," but I was quick to clear that up after he started tossing tech terms at me. I had no idea what a Cisco was, what VoIP stood for, or any of that other nonsense. He'd been disappointed, but recovered well.

As far as he knew, I was a customer service representative. It was true, in a very loose sense. I was good at my job, and I wouldn't say I was embarrassed about it, but it didn't seem like the kind of thing to bring up to someone I barely knew.

One day, for the first time, he and I left for lunch at the same time. I'd heard Tara, one of the newer girls, talking about a really good noodle place that was only a block away. Since I had an hour for lunch, I figured I had plenty of time to go for something a little less like fast food than my usual fare.

Eric was already on the lift; he worked on the seventh floor.

"Fancy meeting you here," I said, grinning as I stepped inside the doors. Since this was the only place we ever ran into each other, it was one of our little running jokes to act surprised whenever we shared a lift. "Are you just now going to lunch?"

"Yep. Niall was telling me about a noodle shop not far from here. I decided to take a later lunch, so I could avoid the crowds."

I blinked, surprised. "Wow, that's where I was heading. Heard about it from one of the new girls. Mind if I join you?"

The easily flustered air he'd had when I met him the second time came roaring back. Apparently he was fine with elevators, but lunch was way outside of his comfort zone.

"Um, I..."

My stomach clenched, and suddenly I didn't feel hungry anymore. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to impose or anything."

"No, uh, it's not a problem. I just, um..." He gulped. "I'd really like it if you came to lunch with me."

The strange feeling in my belly changed, but didn't entirely go away. I wondered if I was getting some kind of stomach flu, or if I was just really hungry. Whatever the case, I figured I shouldn't order anything too spicy at lunch.

We walked out of the building together. Eric had started out at a fairly brisk pace, but slowed down when he realized I was having a bit of trouble keeping up.

"Sorry. Sometimes I forget how long my legs are."

I laughed. "It's okay. Not everyone is as short as I am." I was only five foot four; only a few inches shorter than average, but those few inches really seemed to matter next to him. He was easily a full foot taller than me.

Over the past year, I'd become quite good at coming up with things to say, but none of those things were appropriate for strolling down the street with Eric. I cleared my throat awkwardly.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched the pavement pass under our feet. "We seem to do our best talking in elevators."

I bit my lip, trying to not think about all of the men who would disagree with that statement. "Oh, you know how it is: when you talk for a living, it gets hard," I paused, cringing at the pun he didn't realize I was making, "Uh, gets difficult to talk in your off-time."

"Yeah, I've done more than my fair share of tech support. I know how that goes. But we don't have to talk about any of the stuff you discuss in your customer service job. It's not like I'm one of your customers or anything."

Since there was no coffee for me to choke on, I somehow managed to inhale some of my own saliva. We stopped walking; his eyebrows furrowed as he watched me turn all sorts of interesting shades of purple.

"You okay?" he asked, once I'd managed to get myself back under control.

"Yeah," I said, hoping I didn't look as embarrassed as I felt. "I always feel like an evolutionary failure when that happens."

He chuckled as we started walking again. "Nah. Happens to the best of people. Something I've been curious about: what kind of company is Ravenscroft Industries?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Let's not talk about work. We're on our lunch breaks, after all."

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**Eric POV**

I wondered if Sookie was trying to be mysterious, or if I was simply being too nosy. I wanted to know everything about her. Every time I saw her in the elevators, I tried to find out something new. Even if it was just what sort of food she liked, or how she took her coffee (blonde and sweet, just like her).

I was a naturally curious person; it was one of the things that made me so smart. I'd scared away a number of people by coming on too strong, by wanting to know too much, too soon. It was a hard lesson for me to learn, but I found I had to keep myself at arm's length from most folks, just to keep them around at all.

Sookie was more of a talker than she let on. She wasn't averse to it at all: once she got going, she could talk a blue streak. I didn't mind that, not at all. If anything, I had to concentrate on her words so I didn't get lost in the sound of her voice.

I learned that she was originally from the south, but not from Atlanta. She'd grown up in a small town outside of Shreveport, in Louisiana. She and her best friend, Amelia, had moved here after high school. Amelia could afford to go to college, but didn't want to; Sookie wanted to, but couldn't afford it. The two of them had been best friends for most of their lives. I was still a little vague on the details of how or why they'd chosen Atlanta, but I didn't want to pry. I didn't want to scare _her_ off, too.

At the restaurant, she ordered some pad thai noodles; that just happened to be one of my favorite dishes, but I decided to order something else. When the food arrived, she closed her eyes and took a deep sniff of the steam coming from her plate. The quiet hum she let out was still audible over the noise of the crowd around us, and it sent shivers down my spine.

I prayed that she didn't wasn't one of those women who moaned when she ate. That was always dangerous, and with that voice of hers? Walking back to work would have been incredibly difficult. Worth it, but painful.

With the first bite of her meal, she frowned slightly. "Is it okay?" I asked.

"It's not bad or anything, but it smells better than it tastes. How's yours?"

I hadn't even tried it yet. I took a small bite of my teriyaki udon. It wasn't the best I'd ever had, but it wasn't bad. I shrugged as I chewed.

"It's passable."

"Gran would have my hide for all the talking I've been doing. Tell me about yourself?"

"Gran?" Was that a proper name, or was she referring to one of her grandparents?

"My dad's mom," she explained. "She raised me and my brother Jason after our parents died. When Amelia and I were halfway through our senior year in high school, her mom died; Gran took her in so she wouldn't have to move to Atlanta until after she graduated. When Gran died, two years after that, Jason kept her house, and Amelia and I moved out here, where her dad lives. Where did you grow up?"

Ah, there were some of the missing puzzle pieces. "I was born in Sweden, but my parents moved here a few years after I was born."

"Ooh, do you speak Swedish?" There was a slight gleam in her eyes, one that made me glad for my answer.

I winked. "_Ja_."

She beamed at me. "That's neat. I've always wanted to learn another language, but I've heard it's so much easier to learn when you're younger. How'd you get into tech work?"

"I've loved computers since I was a kid. How did you get into phone work?"

To my confusion, she blushed. "Oh, my previous job was a phone thing. With the phone company, actually."

"Did you get laid off?" It wouldn't have surprised me. A lot of companies were sending their customer service jobs overseas.

"Ah, no. Their phone system made my voice sound... weird. I got tired of the customers teasing me about it. I quit after about a month."

That confused me even more. I knew the local telco's phone system; it was on a larger scale, but ultimately the same one we used at DeCastro. If anything, it should have made her voice sound crystal clear: like they were in the same room. I couldn't imagine ever teasing her about that voice of hers, and had no idea why anyone else would.

Something didn't seem right about all of this, but I knew I was missing a fair bit of information. She already looked like a startled rabbit, ready to run. While I wanted to know more, I hated seeing that look on her face.

"Hey, I wonder if they have thai iced tea here," I said, hoping to ease the tension. "Have you ever had it before? It's really good stuff."

"I've heard it's really sweet, but I've never tried it," she said, looking relieved.

The next time a waitress walked by, I stopped her and asked her to bring us two thai iced teas. She returned a few minutes later, drinks in hand.

Sookie stared at them. "Are they supposed to be bright orange like that? And what's that white stuff? It looks like someone melted a Creamsicle."

I grinned. "The tea _is_ supposed to be that color, and I think the white stuff is condensed milk. I'm not sure if you're supposed to stir it, but I always do."

I grabbed the straw in my tea and swirled the liquid until it had blended, making it look almost like carrot juice. Sookie did the same with hers, then picked up her glass and tried a sip. Watching her lips wrap around the straw had a much stronger effect on me than it probably should have. Bad idea, Eric. Very bad idea.

Her eyes snapped shut and she moaned after she swallowed. "Mmmm. Oh my god, Eric! This stuff is delicious!"

As dry as I suddenly found the inside of my mouth, I thanked every star in the sky that I hadn't been drinking at that precise moment. What cruel or benevolent god could make a woman's voice sound so much like raw sex? That couldn't be natural, but there was nothing coy or shifty about her. It didn't seem like she was doing any of it intentionally.

I must have been gaping; when she opened her eyes, she looked at me like I'd grown another head. I closed my mouth and almost knocked over the glass in my rush to take a gulp of tea.

However much I wanted to get to know Sookie, I had no idea how I was going to do it without making a complete jackass of myself.

The rest of our lunch was friendly, but slightly awkward. We talked about completely inconsequential things: local attractions, music, movies – that sort of thing. The more I worried about frightening her away, the more I picked up on her nervous body language. She seemed so relieved when we left the restaurant, it made my stomach twist up in knots.

I didn't know what it was about her. Well, okay, that wasn't exactly true. She was gorgeous. She had a voice like a sex goddess. She was sweet, she wasn't full of herself, and while she wasn't big into computers, she wasn't a complete idiot.

I wasn't totally inexperienced when it came to women, but she _did_ something to me. I'd never felt anything like it before.

If she had never said a single word to me, the first time we'd met, I probably wouldn't have remembered her. It was like she'd put me under her spell, with those thirteen magical words.

The fact that I had even counted them... Yeah. That just wasn't right.

It was so strange: I'd seen her once, and then not at all for an entire month. Just when I thought I'd never see her again, there she was. From then on, I saw her almost every day. It was always in passing, but it was better than nothing. On any day where we didn't see each other, I went home feeling nervous. Wondered if she was going to disappear again.

Wondered if I was losing my mind.

We were halfway back to the office building when Sookie spoke up. "Thanks for letting me come with you. I wouldn't mind doing that again, sometime."

I tried to rein in my disbelief. Was she serious?

And had she _intentionally_ emphasized the word "come?"

Was she _trying_ to kill me?

I gulped, hoped my smile seemed casual enough, and responded, "It would be my pleasure."

I _might_ have given a slight accent to that last word. But did I imagine it when she appeared to shiver, oh so slightly?

The revolving door at the front of the building was jammed up again. Sookie smiled up at me as I held the front door open for her.

As we walked through the lobby, I noticed the sign for the gym on the second floor. I was giving serious thought to getting a membership with them. I was naturally lean and strong, so it wouldn't necessarily be for working out. I was starting to think it might be a good idea for me to have easy access to a cold shower at work.

* * *

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Unless you've been hiding under a fairly large rock, you've probably heard about the horrible flooding going on in parts of Australia. I know there are a fair number of readers from that part of the marble, and I sincerely hope you're all keeping safe over there.

When tragedy strikes on such a massive scale, we as individuals often find ourselves wondering what we could possibly do to make a difference. It can all seem so overwhelming, and sometimes we lose sight of the fact that every little bit helps. A number of fandom authors have come together and started fundraising; please follow **Fandoms4Floods** on Twitter for more information, or check out their website at fandomsfightthefloods (dot) blogspot (dot) com. If you're a writer, please consider writing something for the cause, if you haven't already signed up.

* * *

**Sookie POV**

I looked up from my plate of mac and cheese so that I could glare at Amelia.

"I'm telling you, 'Meels, you're on crack. You think every guy I meet has the hots for me. Eric looks terrified most of the time."

My best friend raised an eyebrow at me as she scraped the last bite of food off of her plate. She didn't even bother responding. We were sitting on the couch in our living room, eating comfort food and ignoring whatever was playing on the television. The minute I'd gotten home, she'd known something was up; my lunch with Eric had thrown me for a loop.

"No, seriously. Don't you look at me like that, Amelia Broadway."

Amelia snickered and set her plate down on the coffee table. "Sookie, any guy who meets you and doesn't have the hots for you is gay, blind, deaf, or some combination of the three. Eric's just intimidated, is all."

I scoffed at that. "Right. Because I'm so big and mean and scary."

"No, doofus. It's because _you're_ fuckhot, and _he's_ a geek."

"He is _not_ a geek."

"He works in IT, right? Therefore: geek."

I was reminded of an old joke from the floor at the phone company, where the customer service folks mingled freely with the tech support folks: a geek is someone who bites the head off of chickens; a nerd is someone who knows the difference.

Since I wasn't ready for Amelia to start calling me a nerd, I decided to not bring up that little gem.

"Fine. You may have a point there. But he doesn't look like a geek."

"Oh, now _that_ is a damn shame. Geeks are hot; it's the glasses, I swear. And they're _so_ good in bed; I think it's because they're so imaginative."

I could see her point about the glasses, but I wasn't about to address that last bit. My best friend went through men, and occasionally women, like Kleenex.

"You haven't seen him. The man is definitely hot," I let myself drift away for a moment, just thinking about the way his smile lit up his entire face.

Then I crashed straight back down to earth, remembering how freaked he'd looked when I suggested we go to lunch together. Then at lunch, he'd just let me ramble on like a total idiot. I was really bad with nervous chatter; I probably didn't let the man get a word in edgewise. "Oh my God, he must think I'm a total dork."

I tossed my plate onto the coffee table and pulled my knees up to my chest.

Amelia looked at me and rolled her eyes. "Sookie, there's no need to go fetal over this. Honestly. He likes you. You obviously like him. I fail to see the problem, here. Just open your mouth, do your little speaky magic, and he'll be wrapped around your fingers in no time." She patted my knee. "Or you'll be wrapped around his," she added with a leer.

I sighed. "'Meels, that whole voice thing? It's all an act! I'm no kind of sex kitten. Are you completely forgetting I haven't even _had_ sex yet?"

"Good grief," she muttered. "And you never _will_ if you don't do something about it. Stop being so cranal."

Amelia was forever making up words, but that was a new one on me. I should have known better, but I asked anyway. "Cranal?"

"_Cranium_ plus _anal_ equals _cranal_. You've got your head up your ass, girl."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

"Pff. Don't you 'whatever' me, missy; I know where you sleep. I bet he's intimidated by your job. That's gotta be it."

"Um... I haven't exactly told him what I do."

She groaned and buried her head in her hands. "Please tell me you didn't lie to him. That's no way to start a relationship, Sooks."

I bristled at that. "First off: no, I did not lie. I never lie, you know that. And secondly, who said anything about a relationship?"

"Okay, so what did you tell him? What does he think you do for a living?"

"He thinks I'm a customer service rep."

She snorted. "Oh, that's rich. But it's true, I guess. You are providing _quite_ a service to your customers."

Just like that, any irritation between us dissolved in our giggles. I leaned back and sighed. "I'm sorry for being all stupid, hon. I swear, this man is making me lose my wee little mind."

"Hey, I've got an idea: I've been meaning to play hooky for a while. Why don't I take a day off, and you and I can go get lunch together? That's when you always see him, right? Then I can watch the way the two of you interact, get a better feel for the sitch. And if we don't see him, then you can at least take me to that pizza place you're always raving about."

Biting my lip, I thought about that for a moment. It would have been a brilliant plan if we were still in high school. But as much as Amelia liked to tease me, she was quite perceptive when it came to people and body language. If Eric really wasn't interested in me, she'd spot it in a heartbeat.

"Only if you promise to behave."

She frowned. "Define 'behave'."

I threw a pillow at her and missed. "I mean: don't go spouting off to him about how you think I want to have his babies or something crazy like that. And don't pretend to forget that you're incapable of whispering. None of that fake-secret stuff."

Amelia rolled her eyes, but giggled. "Fine, fine. I'll behave myself and try to not embarrass you. But I can't be held accountable if you embarrass yourself."

After we'd decided to do it, I couldn't make up my mind on whether it was a great or horrid idea. But she was my best friend, she would never intentionally do anything to upset me. Friends got together for lunch all the time, so it wouldn't look suspicious. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

It all started out as a relatively simple plan.

Amelia would take a day off. She would come up to the office and sit in the waiting room until it was time for me to go to lunch. I would take my lunch break at my usual time. We would get into the elevator, take it downstairs, leave the building, go get some pizza, and then go back up to the office. I would give her a quick tour, introduce her to some of my work friends, and escort her back out to the lobby.

Somewhere in there, we would have to run into Eric. While I was pretty certain we would, there was no real way to be sure of it.

The more Amelia got into the idea, the more she tried to "enhance" it; her word, not mine. I refused to help her come up with code words and phrases. I threatened her with dire consequences if she brought her camera. I vetoed the walkie-talkies altogether.

Just to be on the safe side, I hid her collection of SkyMall catalogs for a few days. I think she'd gotten them when she was dating a stewardess, since she never really flew anywhere. Neither of us could believe half of the crap in those things; why a frequent flier might need spider vacuums or infra-red goggles was beyond me. I didn't need her getting any more ideas.

I'd already made sure that Pam didn't mind if Amelia stopped by and hung out a little. She'd looked a little too eager when I brought it up; I think Pam was hoping to get another employee out of the deal. Oddly enough, she seemed disappointed when I clarified that Amelia wasn't my sister.

I had retorted that if she had been my sister, I wouldn't have been bringing her to work: it wasn't really a family-friendly environment. Pam had laughed and asked me how I thought families got started, then laughed even harder when I'd blushed.

Maybe introducing the two of them shouldn't be a part of the plan.

It wasn't until the next Monday that our plan was finally put into action. I had high hopes when it looked like everything was going to go according to _my_ plans, rather than according to Amelia's. If she'd had her druthers, Eric and I would be having hot elevator sex while she held the camera.

At eleven-thirty, the lobby receptionist called my extension to let me know that Amelia was waiting downstairs. Since I wasn't on a call at that moment, I punched a break code into my phone and hoofed it to the lobby. No Eric in sight.

Amelia was dressed casually, at my insistence. She'd tried to get me to dress up, but I had refused to wear anything fancier than jeans and a t-shirt. The whole point of this exercise, I reminded her, was to get her to see how Eric _normally_ looked at me_._

We went back up to the office. Pam had told me that Amelia couldn't be loose on the floor when I was still taking calls, and I didn't want her listening to me on the phone, so a very pouty Amelia got stuck in the front room with the coffee table full of magazines. Pam heard us come in; she stepped out of her office just in time for me to give them a brief introduction.

As leery as I felt about leaving the two of them alone together, I had no choice: I still had a half-hour until my lunch break.

When I came back out, thirty minutes later, Pam and Amelia were still talking. If they had moved at all, it was only barely. They hushed up when they saw me walking towards them, which instantly aroused my suspicions.

Pam went back to her office, looking for all the world like the cat who'd gotten the cream. Amelia looked flushed, but if that was anything other than pre-plan excitement, I _really_ didn't want to know.

The two of us walked out to the elevator. Even though we hadn't pressed the button, the doors opened right when we got there. Amelia looked at me curiously, but we walked up to the doors and got on board.

And there was Eric, waiting inside.

"Hey, Eric," I said, hoping I sounded casual.

"Hey, Sookie." He smiled.

Amelia nudged me. I glared at her. "Eric, this is Amelia; I think I've mentioned her before."

Eric nodded at Amelia. "Hi, nice to meet you."

"You off to lunch, I take it?" I asked.

"Yep. Woke up with a craving for pizza, so that's where I'm headed."

Amelia grinned. "Hey, that's where we were going! Sookie's been telling me about that Italian place for a while now. Why don't you join us?"

Almost immediately, he looked like he was ready to bolt. "Oh, I um, wouldn't want to impose or anything."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Amelia beat me to it. "Nonsense. Sookie and I are roomies, we see each other all the time. I'm mostly here for the pizza."

He looked at me. I smiled hesitantly.

"Okay, sure," he said, relaxing a little. But only a little.

"Well, that settles that," Amelia proclaimed as the elevator doors opened.

* * *

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I may be evil, but I try to use my wickedness for good purposes: the lunch date is officially an out-take! I started writing it up for my own referential reasons, but then decided to donate it to Fandoms4Floods. All of the relevant events will be covered in this story, but if you want to read the actual lunch date (from Amelia's POV) with Eric, Sookie, and Amelia... Well, see their site for more information: fandomsfightthefloods (dot) blogspot (dot) com.

* * *

**Eric POV**

I sat back down on my desk, glad that I didn't have any special projects that required my attention. I had just gotten back from a very odd lunch with Sookie and her friend Amelia.

When the elevator had stopped on the third floor, I was glad to see Sookie – as I always was. I'd been wanting to take our interactions out of that small, moving box for a while now, but had no idea how to go about it. Our previous lunch at the noodle place was awkward, but overall pleasant.

The fact that I found "awkward and painfully aroused" to be pleasant might have been an indication of something. I wasn't sure I wanted to examine that too closely, but since it was me, I knew it was just a matter of time before I did.

But first: the lunch with Sookie and Amelia.

It was obvious that something was up between the two of them. Sookie had never mentioned Amelia being fond of teasing her, and I'd lost count of the times Sookie blushed over her pizza. Part of me felt bad that she'd felt uncomfortable at all around me, even if it wasn't my doing. Another part of me wanted to see her blush for other reasons.

It was normal for two lifelong friends to have a number of inside jokes, but the two of them almost seemed to have their own language. I missed most of the conversation, just because of how referential it was. I didn't mind. It was nice to just watch them. More specifically, it was nice to watch Sookie. And it meant I had less opportunities to lodge my foot in my mouth.

"You solving world hunger over there, Northman?"

I looked up at Niall, startled out of my thoughts. "Huh? Oh, no. Just had a strange lunch."

"You didn't eat at Subway, did you? I got a tuna sub from them earlier and I think it might have been off." The older man frowned, rubbed his belly, and reached into the drawer where he kept his ever-present bottle of pink bismuth.

"No, nothing like that. I had lunch with some acquaintances."

He smiled knowingly. "Wouldn't be that girl you've been mooning over, by any chance?"

I grinned sheepishly. "I ran into Sookie and her roommate Amelia in the elevator and kind of got roped into lunch."

"How was that so strange, lunch with two pretty girls? I've seen that Sookie of yours. Fine young woman, that one."

Had anyone else said it, they might have added a leer or a questionable tone to it; when Niall said it, he meant nothing lewd by it. He was a perfectly respectable southern gentleman.

When I didn't say anything, Niall gave me a sharp look. "Why haven't you asked her out yet?"

"I barely know her. And I don't know what sort of things she'd like to do. And I don't know for a fact that she's single. And..."

"You're making excuses, Northman." He took off his spectacles and breathed on them before he started cleaning them with a tissue. "I know it might not seem like it to you, being as young as you are, but life is short, son. Ask her out. What's the worst that could happen?"

I thought about that, and was instantly reminded of a line from one of my favorite movies, Addams Family Values: "What if she says no? _What if she says yes?_"

Sitting there, holding a little slip of paper in my hands, I felt about as suave as Uncle Fester.

Towards the end of lunch, Sookie had gotten up to get a refill of her drink. While she was gone, Amelia had handed me this piece of paper and told me to stash it before Sookie came back. A quick glance at it showed me a bunch of numbers, and I was instantly irritated. Was Amelia hitting on me, and behind her best friend's back? Or was this all some weird plan of Sookie's to hook me up with her roommate?

Confusion had won out over irritation. Knowing that I didn't have time to read the writing before Sookie returned, I'd stuffed it into my pocket. I'd figure it out later, if ever.

Looking at it now, I saw it had Sookie's phone number and an extension. This must be her work number. Why would Amelia give that to me? Was Sookie one of the few people who didn't have a cell phone? It didn't make any sense, but Amelia struck me as kind of a strange girl.

As I stared at those numbers, I realized that if I didn't do something with them soon, I'd lose what little nerve I had. Or even worse, I might actually lose the piece of paper.

Not wanting to make a personal call on the company line, I picked up my cell phone, dialed the first ten digits, and waited.

The phone system for Ravenscroft Industries was pretty generic, just like what little else I'd managed to find out about the company. I went through the menus and entered Sookie's extension when it finally prompted me to do so.

"Well, hello," came a breathy, husky voice through the phone. "This is Destiny. What's your pleasure, handsome?"

* * *

**Sookie POV**

I frowned at my phone. We didn't get a lot of hang-ups, but they did happen occasionally. Like everything else on the job, it wasn't something to take personally. More often than not, someone had simply dialed the wrong number. We'd had a very awkward time of it a few weeks after I first started, when a national internet service provider had misprinted a mass mailing so that it had our number instead of theirs.

The hang-up didn't bug me. I was already plenty bothered. I had no doubt that in her mind, Amelia thought she'd behaved perfectly fine. After all, Eric had no way of knowing just how many innuendos and references to my job she'd slipped into the conversation. He must have thought I was a moron, blushing for no real apparent reason.

To top it all off, she'd decided to take off straight from the restaurant, instead of coming back upstairs with me, as we'd originally planned. When I got back from refilling my drink, she said she'd gotten a phone call from the store; she said there was some kind of emergency, and they needed her.

It all seemed a little _too_ convenient.

Amelia's store, a little shop in Little Five Points, was so well-run, she could easily afford to take more days off than she ever would. She made sure to only hire people she felt she could trust. At one point she'd tried to get me to work there, but I resisted, claiming that the smell of the incense and oils she sold there were too much for me. They were pretty strong, but really I didn't want us getting sick of each other. Plus, I didn't know anything about the stuff she sold: books about magic, tarot cards, crystals... I had a lot of trouble taking any of it seriously. There was no way I could convince anyone else to buy that kind of stuff.

I picked up the book I was reading in between calls and tried to concentrate on it.

I failed. I couldn't stop thinking about Eric. One minute I'd be remembering the way the enormous piece of pizza had seemed normal-sized in his large hands; I couldn't even explain why I found that so alluring. The next minute, I'd be cringing as I remembered doing something awkward or saying something stupid. Just when I thought my mind couldn't possibly torture me any more, I recalled the way he'd looked at me whenever he caught me blushing; I wasn't used to men looking at me like that. Was he upset? Turned on? Why would he be either of those things? Did he get off on seeing women in uncomfortable situations?

Back and forth, it went on and on. I glared at my phone, willing it to ring again. Work would keep my mind off of Eric, right?

Except, as I found out with the next few calls, it didn't. For the first time ever, I imagined what it would be like to say those kind of things to Eric.

I couldn't decide if that was hot or embarrassing. If nothing else, it was distracting, and not in a good way. At least, I didn't think so. The customers didn't seem to mind, if they even noticed at all.

About an hour before my shift was over, Pam stopped by my desk. I was just wrapping up a call, so I held up a finger letting her know to wait. She nodded as I went through my usual routine of gasping and moaning. Somewhere in my jumbled brain, I thought about how awkward that would have been a few months ago. I hadn't wanted anyone listening in on my calls, at first. The more I got used to it, the less I cared. It was _so_ bizarre.

After the call was over, I put my phone into an idle code and turned back towards my boss.

"Hey Pam, what's up?"

"Just wanted to make sure your phone was working all right."

I tilted my head, confused. "I had a hang-up earlier, but other than that it's been fine. Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, not necessarily. I just noticed that your average handle time was really low this afternoon. You remember how the phone system freaked out a few weeks ago?"

Oh boy, did I ever. There had been a glitch in the system that was cutting the calls off after eleven minutes. Pam's IT guy had managed to get it fixed in under an hour, but we'd still had a lot of angry customers over that mess. Amelia, on the other hand, had found it absolutely hysterical when I told her about the guys who'd gotten cut off right at that magic moment. When I'd mentioned that the cut off point had been eleven minutes, she'd laughed to the point of tears.

"Wow," I said, bringing myself back to the present. "Is my AHT that short today? That's odd. Well, it's not a phone problem."

Pam hummed, smiled as if she knew some big secret, and then walked away. I blinked at her retreating figure.

That, as far as I was concerned, was the last straw: I was definitely picking up some Ben & Jerry's on the way home tonight. And I sure as hell wasn't sharing any of it.

* * *

I stomped into the apartment, letting the door close behind me, and went straight into the kitchen so that I could put my ice cream into the freezer.

"Uh oh," came Amelia's voice from behind me. "That bad?"

I spun around and shot her a look. "You abandoned me at lunch. What the hell?"

Amelia cackled, then tried to stifle it when she saw that I was serious. "Oh my God. Sookie. You really are oblivious!"

I was starting to consider the merits of flopping down on the kitchen floor and having a full-blown tantrum, three-year-old style. Arms flailing, kicking, snot bubbles: the whole nine yards. Instead, I trudged into the living room and fell sideways onto the couch.

"Don't tease me, 'Meelie. It's been a rough day."

"Aww, honey, I'm sorry. You sit, get comfy. You want some hot chocolate?"

I nodded sullenly, still feeling like a sulking child.

A few minutes later, my roomie came back with a steaming mug of pure comfort. The smell alone felt like a hug; I knew her secret ingredient was a spoonful of Nutella. She handed it to me and then sat down at the other end of the couch, tucking her feet under her.

"You want to talk about it?" she asked.

Taking a sip of my hot drink, I raised an eyebrow at her. She never asked me if I wanted to talk about anything; she was more inclined to drag it out of me, come hell or high water. But since she was _asking_ instead of _demanding_, I did kind of want to talk about it.

"Before I do, I need you to tell me what you saw at lunch." I was pretty sure our viewpoints would be radically different, and I had no idea which one would be closer to the mark.

She grinned and her eyes got wide. "Girl, the reason I left? Was because he was looking at you like he was about to leap over the table and take you, right then, right there. Public setting be damned."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "What? How is that even possible? I made such a fool of myself!"

"Crack-smoker. You were _not_ making a fool of yourself. You were blushing and shy, and the last time I saw anything cuter, it was in a Pixar movie. Between that and your foodgasms, _I_ was ready to jump you."

"Oh _hell_. Please tell me I didn't make noise while I was eating. You know I never do that on purpose!"

She snorted. "On purpose or not, it still made elevator boy all hot and bothered."

I squished myself further down into the couch, pouting. "Not hot and bothered enough to do anything about it."

Amelia smirked; it was eerily similar to that knowing grin Pam had given me earlier today. I eyed her warily.

"Spit it out, 'Meels. You're hiding something."

Her face froze; she knew I was onto her. As she fiddled with the fringe on one of our throw pillows, she was clearly debating whether or not to tell me.

"I _might_ have given him your number."

I scrambled to pick up my bag and dig through it. Once I found my phone, I flipped open the screen and saw that I had not missed a single call. "Wait, did you give him my cell number or the line to our apartment?"

She cringed. Oh, that was _so_ not a good sign.

"Amelia?" I prompted quietly. "Which number did you give Eric?"

It all came out in a rush. "I don't know! It wasn't my idea! She made me do it!"

"What? Who made you..."

_Shit_.

Pam.

"You told my _boss_ about this?" I demanded. She nodded sheepishly.

Oh. My. God. That meant...

That meant Eric probably had my work number.

That meant that when he called me, _if_ he called me, he would call me _at work_.

Where I was a phone sex operator.

Where the phones didn't really differentiate between regular calls and calls that came directly to my extension.

And then, to make it all worse: I remembered the hang up call I'd gotten shortly after getting back from lunch.

"Amelia," I croaked weakly, "Could you be a dear and go fetch my ice cream?"

* * *

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Aww, there were an awful lot of you who are mighty pissed at Pam and Amelia right now. They had good intentions, I swear... but you know what they say about good intentions, right? Don't worry, it won't ruin everything; that would be a pretty short (and pretty crappy) story if that were the case. And no, they're not off the hook. There's still plenty of opportunities for tables to get turned in their direction. ;D

* * *

**Eric POV**

I sat on my couch, staring blankly at the television. Realizing it wasn't even on, I looked around for the remote. If it was anywhere to be found, I wasn't finding it. I took another drink of my beer and went back to staring at the television. It wasn't like I'd be able to pay attention to anything on it, anyway. This way, at least it was quiet.

I didn't normally drink much. I knew that when I did, I had a tendency to cut loose. It wasn't a casual thing, not at all. But today...

Tonight, what little alcohol I drank would be strictly for medicinal purposes. If it didn't help me figure anything out, at least it would make the process more interesting.

I just needed to look at this logically. I was good with logic; people, not so much. But sometimes there was logic behind a person's actions, right?

As far the strange phone call was concerned, there were two possibilities.

The first was that Amelia had given me some random number. Except, why would she have done that? She'd been so straightforward when I met her; if she didn't like me, it would have been obvious. Or maybe she did like me, and was teasing me in a way that made no sense whatsoever. It was possible that Sookie had failed to mention what a practical joker Amelia was. If that was the case, I wasn't sure I cared about the _why_: it was something Amelia had done, not Sookie.

The second was that Amelia had, in fact, given me Sookie's number. Stemming from that were two other possibilities: someone Destiny had answered Sookie's phone, or Sookie had answered the phone and used a different name.

But why would someone do that? Well, the obvious reason would be that they didn't want someone to know their real name. What kind of job did Sookie...

And that's when it hit me.

No, that couldn't be right. I shook my head and stared down my beer. I'd only had the one; I shouldn't even be tipsy.

It didn't make sense. She couldn't be. She was so sweet, so shy. How could someone who was so easily embarrassed ever do that kind of work?

But when I thought about it, it made so many things make that much more sense: the odd inflections she occasionally used, the way she blushed over seemingly innocuous statements.

I remembered the first thing she'd ever said to me. Then I remembered hearing "Destiny" answer the phone. The two voices were the same, but that wasn't how she normally spoke to me. Had she been messing with me, that first day?

Or had she been hitting on me?

I groaned and put a pillow over my face.

While I was fairly certain that Sookie was working in the phone sex industry, I had no real proof of it. How was I supposed to react, the next time I saw her? Should I let on that I knew? Should I wait for her to say something? Pretend like nothing ever happened?

If I'd been confused about what to do before, that was nothing compared to what I felt now.

* * *

Still nervous about the chance that I might run into Sookie on the way in to work, I opted to take the coward's route: the stairs. All seven floors. I was in good enough shape that it didn't kill me to do it, but it had been a while since I'd been to the gym. That might hurt, later.

I trudged to my desk, feeling horrible. I'd lain awake most of the night, my brain finally shutting up somewhere around midnight-thirty. It wasn't until I sat down that I realized at least part of my problem: I needed caffeine. I sighed, got back up, and went to the break room.

Niall was already there, waiting for a pot of coffee to finish brewing. I mumbled something vaguely resembling "good morning" and started preparing what one of my old coworkers referred to as a "ghetto mochaccino" - one packet of hot chocolate mix, and at least three of those little flavored creamers. Didn't even matter which flavors.

The sugar would wake me up until the caffeine had a chance to kick in. One of these puppies and I'd be set.

"You're looking a little rough around the edges there, Northman."

I nodded and rubbed a hand over my face. "Yeah, that sounds about right. How're you doing, Niall?"

"It's Tuesday," he said, shrugging. "There is no point to Tuesdays."

I frowned. This was slightly surreal, but what wasn't, these days? "Okay, I'll bite. Why is there no point to Tuesdays?"

He smiled and turned to lean against the counter. "Monday is the start of the week. Wednesday is the middle of the week, hump day; means the week is half over. Thursday means it's almost Friday, and if you're in college, you can start getting your drink on. Friday is the last day of the week, first day of the weekend."

"So Tuesday is just..."

"Tuesday is just Monday, part two."

Thank God the coffee was done. Niall wasn't usually this goofy, but I couldn't blame him: he was retiring in a matter of days. He poured himself a cup of brown water masquerading as coffee, filled my cup for me, and placed the carafe back into the machine.

"C'mon, let's go back to our desks. You can fill me in on what's bothering you, if you're so inclined."

I smiled at his back as he started walking. He gave off a gruff air, but he really was a sweet old gentleman.

As we sat back down in the office that we shared, I moved my mouse out of habit; the screen came to life, and I typed my password to unlock the screensaver. No new mail, nothing that required my immediate attention. Good.

"So, you remember my little phone-tossing incident yesterday?" I asked.

Niall chuckled. "Hard to forget. You dropped your phone like it was the devil himself."

"Well, at lunch yesterday, Amelia gave me Sookie's number. It was her work number."

He didn't say anything, just lifted his eyebrows. Probably wondering if I was that big a chicken. I shook my head, trying to think of how to explain everything. I leaned over, braced my elbows against my knees, and stared at my hands.

"So this girl, Sookie, she's been driving me nuts, and she doesn't even seem to notice."

My train of thought was interrupted by a particularly amused snort. I looked up to see Niall grinning.

"What?" I asked, perplexed by his strange reaction.

"Oh, I was just thinking about something I recently heard in a comedy routine. Men are, by far, the more romantic gender. We're the ones who get our heads all tangled in knots. We're the ones who find ourselves completely helpless at the wiles of the women folk. We find someone, decide we can't hardly _breathe_ without them." He chuckled before continuing. "They get that way about clothes, shoes, and babies."

I thought about the sorts of outfits I'd seen Sookie wear; she didn't strike me as one of those women who was obsessed with the first two things Niall had mentioned. I refused to even think about that last one. Okay, maybe I thought a little. Then I remembered to breathe.

"Right, well... so I called Sookie and it didn't quite go as I expected. She answered the phone with a different name."

That seemed to throw the older man for a bit of a loop. He paused, mid-sip, and blinked. "Where did you say she works?"

"Ravenscroft Industries, on the third floor."

There went the eyebrows again. "She works for Pam? Well, don't that just beat all."

I frowned. "I think that's her boss' name. Wait, how do you know that?"

He grinned. "You should know what an incestuous industry IT is. Same with phones. Combine the two, and you'll find yourself a bigger bunch of gossips than my Aunt Mattie's sewing circle. Pam hired an independent contractor to set up and maintain her phone system, and that fella is friends with my nephew."

"And you heard about her because..."

"Because it's not every day that a person sets up a system for a phone sex company. That sort of thing is going to get talked about."

So it was true. Sookie: the sweet, shy, innocent-looking... phone sex operator.

I couldn't begin to wrap my head around it.

"Hey now," Niall said sternly, "Don't you start looking all glum over there. It's a living, something that's hard to come by these days. Don't judge. It's who you _are_, not what you _do_, that's important. One of the best men I've ever had the privilege of knowing was a garbage collector. He did stuff no one else wanted to do, and he might have smelled a little funny, but he was a good man."

It was an odd analogy, and ultimately he was right, but it was going to take me a minute or twenty to let everything really sink in.

I sat up and reached for my coffee, suddenly wishing I had laced it with something stronger than hot chocolate and flavored creamers.

* * *

**Sookie POV**

I opened my eyes and whimpered at the light streaming in through the curtains. After the day I'd had yesterday, I decided to call out of work. I wasn't sick, but Pam knew just how difficult our jobs could be; she didn't frown on us taking the occasional mental health day, so long as we didn't make a habit of it.

When I told Amelia that I thought Eric might have been my hang-up caller, she'd paled and offered to do anything to make me feel better. I snickered as I recalled her offering to go out and get "booze and hookers" if that would help. She'd only been joking, hoping to lighten my mood. It had the desired effect, and my breathless panic had turned into hysterical giggles.

Not that those giggles lasted long. I spent most of the night feeling sorry for myself, nursing my emotional sore spots with ice cream and pizza. My roomie had declared herself to be at my beck and call; while I didn't want to take advantage of her guilty feelings, I might have made her go out for more ice cream. And chocolate syrup. And sprinkles.

Slightly buzzed on chocolate overdose, I had started feeling belligerent instead of mopey. Who was Eric to judge me? It was just a job. It wasn't like I was out working any street corners. I wasn't hanging from poles with a pair of clear heels strapped to my feet. I was just _talking_.

And then I'd begun moping again. I was all talk. That's _all_ I was. All talk, and no game. I could be the most brazen of hussies, so long as I was hiding behind a headset. Put me in the same room with an attractive man, and I was all blushes and stammers.

What kind of guy would want to be with a woman who did what I did? Sure, I could see how they might enjoy the perks of the job. To hear Amelia tell it, every man out there wanted a girl who knew how to talk dirty. But again, according to my roomie, most of them were cavemen at heart. They wouldn't be able to handle the jealousy, knowing that when I went to work, I talked dirty to dozens of other men. Every day. Dozens. Other men.

Hell, even I didn't like thinking about that too much.

I lifted my head just enough to flip my pillow over to the cool side, immediately feeling better. I decided that what I really needed was to get over all of this. If Eric couldn't take the heat, he could stay the hell out of my elevator.

Because it wasn't like he'd ever been in my kitchen. And wherever I went, the heat just followed. Aw, yeah.

As if the universe wanted to remind me of who I really was, I promptly got tangled in the bedsheets as I tried to get out of bed. I got out of bed, all right: very nearly face first, straight into the laundry basket. Somehow, I managed to right myself before doing any serious bodily harm.

Without an audience, I stood up and yelled, "Ta-dahh!""

Giggling, I headed into the shower. Once I was clean and dressed, I figured I would head off to Little Five Points. Maybe some retail therapy was in order.

* * *

I spent almost two hours browsing through some of the little shops around Amelia's store, but hadn't found anything that I really felt like buying. Still, it felt good to get out of the house, and for a reason other than going to and from work. Sure, I got out on the weekends, but there was an almost naughty pleasure in being out and about in the middle of a weekday.

Finally, I slipped into Amelia's store; she had waved in the direction of the door, but she was busy chatting with another girl at the counter. I browsed, pretending like I was just another customer. She'd see me when she saw me, and I hadn't looked over her stock in months.

I wrinkled my nose as I walked past the incense section, but decided to take a whiff of some of the essential oils she had in a special shelf. There was a little glass bowl with what looked like coffee grounds. I sniffed it, confirming that it was indeed coffee. The little sticker on the bowl indicated that I should use the smell of the coffee to "clear my nasal palate" between smelling the little vials of oil.

I shrugged and got to sniffing. Most of the oils were easy enough to figure out: jasmine, honeysuckle, rose, all manner of flowers. Others had names that gave me no indication how they would smell: opium, night musk, amber, satyr, and nymph.

"Sookie!" I heard Amelia call out. I whirled around, a small vial of satyr oil in my hand.

"Hee. Hey 'Meels. How's tricks?"

She grinned and came up to give me a hug. "I'm almost surprised to see you out of bed and smiling. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I decided that I was done moping. If something good happens, yay. If not, well, it's not like he and I were ever together or anything."

Amelia breathed a sigh of relief before catching on that I was glaring at her. "Um... what?"

"You're _so_ not off the hook, 'Meels."

She grimaced. "Yeah. I thought about it, and it was one of those things that seemed like a really good idea at the time. I'm really sorry, sweetie. I hope I didn't mess everything up."

I sighed. "It's not like there was all that much to mess up. We'll see how things turn out. If he freaks out over this, then screw him. If he doesn't..."

"Then screw him?" Amelia interrupted with a leer. I fake-glared at her and tried to not laugh.

When I went to cover my giggling mouth, I almost forgot that I still had a vial of oil in my hand. It was the smell that tipped me off. It smelled like... well, even to a virgin like me, it smelled like sex. Shower sex. Soapy and clean and musky and it just made me want to start gnawing on something. I gaped down at the vial.

"You just smelled satyr oil, didn't you?" Amelia asked. I nodded. "Yeah, I've seen that look before. I can't keep it on the shelves. That's the last one; you want it?"

I nodded again. "How much?"

"Pff. On the house. I owe you for not kicking my ass. Just keep in mind that oils aren't like perfumes. A little goes a long way, and they can last a bit longer. Just use the tiniest of dabs on your wrists, maybe on the crook of your elbows."

I stuck the vial in my pocket and grinned. I wasn't going to slut myself up or anything, but I didn't hate the idea of making myself a little more irresistible to a certain blond geek.

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Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Satyr oil _does_ exist. There are a number of different recipes out there, and I'm not sure which of them is correct; the kind I have (the same one I've described), I've only ever been able to find at the local Renaissance Fair and a local shop in Atlanta (yes, in the Little Five Points Area). It really does sell out quickly, because it _really _does smell that damn good. Honestly, the stuff shouldn't be legal. It's dangerous.

Speaking of dangerous: I regularly crack myself up when I'm writing this story. Now, humor is highly subjective, so that could mean any number of things: this story is damn funny, I'm way too easily amused, or the nice men in the white coats will be providing me with my very own hug-jacket soon enough. So consider yourself warned: do not eat or drink anything while reading this chapter; I cannot be held responsible for any keyboards that were harmed in the process of reading this story.

* * *

**Eric POV**

By Tuesday afternoon, I had decided that I would take Niall's advice – all of it – to heart. The next time I saw Sookie, I would ask her out. I had no deal idea of what we could do on a date, not having gone on all that many, but we'd cross that bridge when we got to it. First things first: I had to actually ask her. And then she had to say yes. Then we could figure out what to do and where to go.

What had really nailed it home for me was my reaction when I didn't see her at all during lunch: I missed her. There was a brief moment of panic when I wondered if she was avoiding me. Then I realized that she probably had no way of knowing it had been me who'd called her. That made me feel a little better about the whole thing.

Still, I went home with a pit of worry in my stomach. Not seeing her had more of an effect on me than was probably sane. I had known attractive women before, but none of them had ever had this kind of impact on me. She made me feel like a bumbling teenager. It wasn't like I was regularly any kind of Casanova, but Sookie just had me all tied up in knots. Just like Niall had said. Damn it, I hated it when people were right about that kind of thing.

Wednesday was a bad morning for me. My alarm hadn't gone off for some bizarre reason. I was sure I'd set it the night before. I was lucky to not have overslept more than a half hour or so; I rushed through my morning routine and managed to make it to work only a few minutes later than usual.

I'd hoped that maybe those few minutes would let me catch her in on her way to work. I still wasn't entirely certain what hours she worked; I just knew that we often saw each other on our lunch breaks. Even that wasn't much of a clue: some days we went to lunch at the same time, other days we just saw each other in passing.

There was so much I didn't know about her, but I wanted to remedy that. I wanted to know what made her tick. I wanted to know what she looked like when she first woke up in the morning. I wanted to see her happy. I wanted to see her angry. I wanted to see her flushed and...

Yeah, I really needed to not continue that line of thought. Not when I was supposed to be at work. It could only lead to me doing something stupid.

When I stepped into the elevator, I was hit with the most wonderful scent. I couldn't begin to find words for it, but I knew for certain it was a good thing that Sookie wasn't there with me. I wasn't sure I could be held accountable for my actions in that kind of situation.

It overwhelmed me, and not in the ways that most perfumes did. There was a woman in the DeCastro HR department who smelled like she had bathed in perfume. The strength of it could knock a vulture off a shit truck from forty paces. I had no idea how she could handle being around herself, unless she simply had no sense of smell whatsoever.

I got to my desk, set down my stuff, and went for my usual cup of coffee. It was just as bad as ever, but I drank it as I always did. Once you start working in IT, you trade all of the blood in your veins for caffeine; this is a well-known fact.

I went through my day: chatted with Niall; put out phone-related fires; set up some new accounts; deleted some old accounts. Went to lunch: no Sookie. Came back from lunch: no Sookie. Did some more work. Tried to not think about Sookie: failed.

And then there was that scent I'd smelled in the elevator. It haunted me. Was it possible to have peripheral scent, like being able to smell something out of the corner of your nose? I kept thinking I'd caught a whiff of it, but whenever that happened, I would inhale again and smell nothing unusual. Niall started asking me if I was coming down with a cold, I was sniffing so much.

Oh, I was sick all right: I was losing my mind. Sookie was driving me to distraction.

Frustrated, dejected, and feeling vaguely ill, I packed up my things when it was time to go home. I got onto the elevator, cursed when I smelled that delicious scent again, and hit the button for the lobby.

When the lift stopped on the third floor, I got my hopes up that Sookie would be there. No such luck.

I waited for someone to get on. No one did. I frowned. That was very odd. I held the doors open and peeked my head out to see if there was anyone in the hallway.

I turned my head when I heard a door open down the hallway: Ravenscroft Industries. And there was Sookie.

* * *

**Sookie POV**

The lunch from hell and the mysterious hang-up call both happened on Monday. I skipped out of work altogether on Tuesday. By Wednesday morning, I was ready to get back to work; even if my job was weird, I hated having nothing to do.

Once I'd gotten out of bed on Tuesday morning, I'd decided to go the girl-power route. I wasn't going to let some stupid guy problems get me down. For most of the day, I managed to keep that mindset firmly lodged in my head.

Wednesday morning, I was a little shaky, but still doing fairly well. I got dressed in a nice, comfy pair of jeans and one of my favorite t-shirts. I put a little satyr oil on my wrists, pausing a moment to close my eyes as I inhaled the delectable fragrance. While I was tempted to put a little more on, I figured I'd start out small. When it came to perfumes, not enough was always better than too much.

When she got home Tuesday night, Amelia had warned me further about essential oils. Unlike perfumes, which mostly covered up your natural scents, oils were more likely to enhance or combine with the way a person smelled. I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing, so I was definitely going to go easy on the satyr oil for the time being.

Wednesday morning, I went in to work. Got on the elevator. No Eric. Went to my desk, logged in and started taking calls. Got up to go to lunch, again: no Eric. Came back from lunch and still: not a single Eric in sight.

Well, shoot. This girl-power stuff was a lot less satisfying when there was no one around to really notice how fierce I was being.

I went back to my desk to finish out the rest of my day. My satyr oil plan had backfired. All day long, I was smelling the most wonderful thing, wondering where it was coming from... and then realized it was the stuff on my wrists. It was tormenting me. I wanted to find Eric and find out if it had a similar effect on him. I wanted to do all sorts of things to him, things I'd only ever talked about doing.

And of course, he was nowhere to be found.

At the end of the day, I logged off of my phone, shut down my computer, and packed up my stuff to go home. As I made my way out of the office, I tried to think about what I could do that would take my mind off of things. And by "things" I really meant Eric. I was thinking about him way too much. It was starting to get silly.

As I left the office, I was startled to see a floating head by the elevators. No, that wasn't right. The elevator doors were open, and someone was peeking out of them.

Eric.

He looked just as shocked to see me as I felt, seeing him. Wait, was he following me? If he was, did that make him creepy? Or just curious?

Once he realized he was staring, his eyes got wide and he ducked back into the lift. He looked so much like a little boy who'd been caught stealing cookies, I couldn't help but grin.

"Could you hold the elevator?" I called out, picking up my pace a little.

He didn't respond, but I saw one of his large hands appear at the edge of the door. I walked up to and into the elevator, smiling at him.

"Thanks. These things are so slow, sometimes."

He smiled and nodded. Did he look nervous? Just as the elevator doors were closing, his nostrils flared and he looked sharply at me.

"You?" he asked, with a strange look on his face.

Uh. What? "Me?"

"Oh, um..." his voice trailed off and the look on his face went from intense to abashed. "Is that a new perfume you're wearing?"

I smiled. "Sure is. Picked it up in Amelia's shop yesterday."

He gulped and I couldn't help but stare. No man's throat should be that interesting. _No! Stay on track, Sookie! Remember your girl-power, be fierce. Be strong. Let him come to you._

Eric licked his lips and looked nervous. "So, Iknowwedon'treallyknoweachother... butIwaswondering... wouldyouliketogooutwithme?"

I blinked. He'd spoken so quickly, I wasn't sure I'd understood. Had he just asked me out? My stomach flopped over and I prayed that it hadn't sounded nearly as loud to him as it had to me.

"Pardon?"

He took a deep breath and tried again. "Sookie, would you like to go out with me, sometime?"

I bit my lip and nodded.

"Great!" he said, exhaling a bit loudly. "That's really great."

"When did you have in mind?" I asked. My phone skills were coming in oddly useful. With any luck, I sounded all cool and collected, when on the inside, my mind was more like, _how about right now? Now's good for me. Is now good for you? Now's _great_ for me. I like _now_. A lot._

"How does Friday night sound?"

No. Now. Not Friday night. _Now_. "Sounds good. Oh, I should probably give you a better number to call me."

Whoops. Eric had just turned a funny shade of pale. Too eager? Oh. Oh, no. Now he knew that I knew. Which meant that it _was_ him who had called and hung up. Which made this all so much more confusing. Doing my best to ignore that, and probably failing miserably, I held out my hand.

"Can I see your phone?"

The elevator dinged, and after we got out, we stepped to the side of the lobby to keep talking. Eric handed me his phone, and I entered my name and number into his contacts list. I dialed myself, let it ring once, hung up, and then handed it back to him.

"Thanks," he said, grinning widely. He took it, looked at it, and then stuffed it back into his pocket.

"Where did you want to go?"

He looked perplexed. "I was about to go home."

"No, I meant on Friday."

"Oh! Friday. I had some different ideas. I wasn't sure what you'd want to do."

I shrugged. "I'm pretty easy." _Ack! No!_ "I mean, I'm fairly open..." Okay, this was just not going well for me, here. I resisted the urge to hide my face in my hands and settled for clearing my throat instead. "What did you have in mind?"

If I was any other color than bright purple, it would have been a miracle. Just one more of those, and I could qualify for sainthood.

Apparently, seeing me blush had some kind of effect on Eric. He squirmed slightly. "Maybe we could talk about that later? Call me?"

I looked around. Oh, right. We were still standing in the lobby. "Okay. Sounds like a plan. I'll call you."

* * *

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: My pre-reader, **Sarahblueiris**, tells me that **EtheHunter** would do mean things to me if I didn't put a warning at the top of this chapter. So consider yourselves warned: go to the bathroom before reading this chapter; do not attempt to eat or drink anything while reading this chapter.

* * *

**Eric POV**

I closed the door of my apartment and leaned against it. I couldn't contain myself any longer.

She said yes.

It was all I could do, on the trip home, to not make a complete fool of myself.

Sookie. Said. _Yes_.

Behind closed doors, I could let it all out. I could be my own self without having to worry about what anyone thought of me.

I damn near flew over to my the shelves that held the CD player and my music collection. I quickly found what I was looking for, loaded it up, and cranked the volume.

Jumping onto my couch, I stood on the cushions and felt my blood start to pump in time with the opening drum beats. I strummed along with the guitar as soon as it started to pound through my speakers. My air guitar skills were legendary. To me, at least. When the music got more intense, so did I. I started singing along, quietly at first, my voice rising as the song progressed.

"_And he's watching us aalll in the eyyyyyyee... of the tiiiiiiiiigerrrrrrrr_!"

Once the song finished, I breathlessly ran over to the CD player to stop it from going to the next track. As tempting as it was to do another victory dance, I needed to get some food in me. All day, I'd been so nervous that I'd barely had anything to eat. I loaded up a CD I'd burned with some of my favorite classic rock songs, turned the volume back down to sane levels, and strutted into the kitchen.

As I made my dinner, I almost wanted to announce everything I was doing, to my empty apartment, punctuating every sentence with "_like a boss"_.

That might have been a _bit_ much. Besides, I wasn't the best cook in the world. If I didn't watch what I was doing, I was likely to set something on fire. Thankfully, spaghetti with a jar of sauce was kind of difficult to truly fuck up.

Once I'd eaten my noodles and cleaned up after myself, I looked around and wondered what the hell to do with myself. I was ramped up and ready to bounce off some walls. It was still early in the evening, I could have gone out. Maybe a jog would help burn off some of this energy.

And then it hit me.

She said yes.

Fuck.

What the hell was I going to do? I did have some ideas about where we could go, but I wasn't sure how she would feel about any of them. I ran my hand over my hair and was somehow surprised to find it short, even though it had been years since I'd started having it cut that way. Standing in the middle of my kitchen, I looked around helplessly, trying to get ideas.

As if my toaster might provide inspiration on where to take Sookie on our first date.

Our first _date_.

Our _first_ date.

_Our_... oh hell, I needed my mind to stop going in circles and start really coming up with something useful.

Dinner and a movie? Too cliché. And what was the point of going out if you were just going to sit in the dark and not talk – or do anything _else_ – for two hours?

Dinner and dancing? Except I wasn't so good at dancing in public; I didn't want our first date to be dinner, dancing, and a trip to the ER.

I thought the Atlanta Aquarium could have been neat, but had no idea if she would have liked that sort of thing. I'd already been there, and it was amazing. If she hadn't already gone, that meant I could watch her while she watched the fish. Except then maybe she would catch me staring and think I was some kind of creepy watchy guy.

I was startled to hear my phone ringing. My phone almost never rang in the evening, unless it was my parents calling. They only ever called on Sunday nights. Things were always very scheduled in the Northman household.

I ran to answer it and nearly panicked. It was Sookie.

"Hello?"

"Hi," came her sweet voice. I melted into the couch. "I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"

"No, I just finished my dinner."

"Same here. Amelia made us some really good spaghetti with meatballs."

"No kidding? That's what I had, minus the meatballs."

We talked about anything and everything. The conversation ranged from favorite foods, movies, music, that sort of thing. It was wonderful. I could get lost in her voice. When she laughed, she turned me into a vaguely Eric-shaped pile of goo. More than once, it struck me as strange how we were so nervous around each other in person, but could talk so well over the phone.

Maybe now that the ice was breaking, it would be easier for us to talk in person.

About an hour into our conversation, Sookie's voice turned slightly pensive.

"Eric... there's something I think you should know."

"Okay. What's up?" I tensed up, bracing for impact: she had a boyfriend. Or she was promised to be married to a Saudi prince. Or she was a week away from entering a convent and taking a vow of silence. Or something equally terrifying and ridiculous.

"Well, you know I do phone work, right?"

I relaxed slightly, having some idea of what was coming. "Yeah?"

"Um, before we go out, I think it's only fair that you know what _kind_ of phone work."

Should I let on that I already knew? No. I didn't want to scare her off, not when she was obviously so worried about scaring _me_ off.

"Okay," I said, trying to keep my voice level.

She cleared her throat, and I heard her take a deep breath. I wished she was next to me; she sounded like she needed a hug.

"I'm a phone sex operator." There it was.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said: okay."

"You... you don't mind? You aren't freaked out by that?"

"I don't know if I get it... but I guess I had an idea that that's what you did."

She laughed, much to my relief. "I guess you did. You called me the other day, didn't you?"

Even with no one there to see me, I blushed. "Um... yeah. Sorry about that. I didn't know."

"Just, you know, if it ever bugs you, tell me? Sometimes it bugs me, but it's a job, and it helped me to talk to Amelia about it."

I smiled, wishing more than ever that she was in the same room with me. "Okay, I will."

"Oh, you know what? I meant to call you to find out what we were doing on Friday. You completely distracted me, you naughty man."

The voice had gotten lower and huskier as she'd spoken those last words. I thought my eyes were going to roll into the back of my head, if they hadn't fallen out completely. I hope to God I didn't moan out loud. Or at least, not loud enough for her to hear me.

I coughed and tried to regain some semblance of composure. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

She giggled. That saucy minx. While I wanted to say that two could play at that game, I knew she would beat me, every single time. And I would love every second of it.

"Right. Friday." I grinned. Suddenly, I had the perfect idea. "Can it be a secret?"

"How will I know what to wear?" I could almost hear her pouting.

"What you wear to work would be fine, actually. Jeans and a t-shirt. Something comfortable and casual."

* * *

**Sookie POV**

It was almost impossible to resist. I desperately wanted to tease Eric over the phone. When I'd called him naughty, the little gasping and moaning noises he made were just about the hottest things I'd ever heard.

I'd never gotten turned on during any of my work calls before. This was a different thing altogether. It was an entirely new experience: it was with Eric, someone I knew. Well, he was someone I wanted to know more. In an odd way, it made me feel better about my job: it made it that much clearer in my head that those phone calls didn't mean a damn thing to me.

Ever since I started having phone-related jobs, I hadn't wanted to spend any of my free time talking on phones. With friends and family, I tried to keep conversations short and sweet. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to them, it was more that I was tired of talking to people without being able to see them. Not that I _wanted_ to see any of the people I spent my work hours talking to. Again, it was different with Eric. I wanted to see him, but I had no problems talking to him on the phone.

We wound up talking for almost two hours. Several times during the course of the conversation, Amelia poked her head into the room to see if I was still on the phone; each time, I shooed her out after I saw her making googly eyes at me. She was such a goof, but I knew she was happy for me.

By the time we hung up, I still had no idea what we were doing on Friday. I hadn't busted out the big guns, but I'd given it a few tries. All I knew was that I should dress casually, and that he hoped the weather was nice that night. Since I hadn't objected to the idea of starting our date early, we would be going out right after we both got off of work.

Other than Amelia, Eric was the first person I'd ever told about my phone sex job. I never could have told my brother Jason about it; he would have had kittens. It was a huge relief that Eric had taken it as well as he did. I was still a bit concerned that a fuss was coming, somewhere down the line. While I had hopes that he and I could have something more than a handful of dates, I knew that getting worried about future conflicts was putting the cart way before the horse. We may have gone out to lunch together a few times, but we had yet to have an actual, official, honest-to-goodness first date.

I lay back on my bed and took a few minutes to bask in the glow of the conversation, then went out to the living room. As soon as I walked in, Amelia muted the television and bounced in her seat.

"Speak, woman! Tell me everything!"

I grinned and sat down at the other end of the couch, tucking my feet under me.

"Well..." I said slowly.

Her left eye twitched just a little, and she picked up a pillow, ready to throw it at me. I snickered.

"Don't you dare withhold, missy. I know where you sleep." She narrowed her eyes at me, but couldn't keep the smile from her face.

"He's much easier to talk to on the phone. I mean, he was all awkward during lunch on Monday, and I think he was nervous because you were there. I get the impression that he's shy around people he doesn't know. When he and I had gone to lunch before, we'd chatted fairly well, but nothing like what just happened."

"Did you tell him about your job?"

I nodded. "Yep. He already knew, and fessed up to being the hang-up call I'd gotten the other day. He seemed to be okay with it."

She made an ooh noise and wiggled a little. "Tell me more. What else did you guys talk about?"

"Oh, lots of stuff. Things we liked, things we didn't like. We have pretty similar tastes, which is neat. He's an only kid, talks to his parents every weekend. I dunno. Stuff."

My brain was on overload. I was overwhelmed, but in a pleasant way. I sighed happily and snuggled deeper into the corner of the couch.

"So tomorrow night, I think you and I need to plan something to keep you busy."

I looked up at Amelia. "Why's that?"

She snorted. "You forget how well I know you. You're going to go absolutely batshit between now and when you leave work on Friday."

Oh man, she was right. I was going to be a hot mess; I was glad she'd thought of that before the crazy really kicked in. "You have anything in mind?"

"Normally I'd say let's go to that little bar by the shop and get plotzed off our gourds, but you so don't need to be hungover on Friday. Maybe we could rent some movies, order pizza and eat lots of candy? Have a girls' night in?"

"'Meels, you are a _genius_."

* * *

The next day, I went to work loaded with things I hoped would keep my mind occupied: a book of Sudoku and crossword puzzles, a deck of cards, and my latest cross-stitch piece. The fates must have been smiling on me, because I was just busy enough, without feeling swamped. The first half of my day flew by.

I only saw Eric in passing; he was coming back from lunch just as I was on my way out. We'd smiled shyly at each other, and my belly did silly fluttery things when he'd winked at me. I could tell he was feeling a little bolder, and that made me happy. His awkwardness was adorable, but I had a feeling that the more we got to know each other, the more confident he would be around me. I couldn't wait to see Comfortable Eric.

My afternoon passed just as quickly as the morning had; when I left work, I didn't bother bringing home any of the distractions I'd brought with me. I knew I'd just need them again the next day, so I locked them up in my desk drawers.

When I got home, Amelia was already waiting for me with a stack of movies that she'd picked up from the video rental place. She'd also picked up enough microwave popcorn, candy, and soda to feed a small army. We opted against ordering pizza, deciding that was just overkill.

Before we got started on our evening's festivities, she helped me pick out an outfit to wear the next day. She insisted that we take care of it first, saying that if we left it until bedtime or the next morning, I would be more inclined to panic over it. She knew me a little _too_ well, sometimes. We decided on a pair of dark blue jeans and a red v-neck top that was somewhere between t-shirt and casual-dressy.

Over the next few hours, we drooled over Matt Damon in one of the Jason Bourne movies (we didn't notice or even care which one it was), snickered over _The Addams Family_, and had at least one belching contest during the boring parts of some romantic comedy that I didn't even bother hearing the name of. Amelia always won, unless we were drinking Diet Dr Pepper.

Before I knew it, we were yawning and it was just about time to go to bed.

I was so excited about my day, I woke up a half-hour before my alarm went off. Smelling something cooking, I went into the kitchen and found Amelia making waffles. As soon as she saw me, she poured a cup of coffee and put the mug directly into my hands. Yeah, she knew me really well.

"I figured you'd be up early, and since you're going to be up late, I thought you might need a better start to your day than a simple bowl of cereal."

"Aww, thanks sweetie." I gave her a quick hug and leaned against the counter. We chatted and ate our waffles at the breakfast bar in our kitchen.

After breakfast, I took a shower, dried my hair, and got dressed. The night before, we'd decided that I should just leave my hair down. I didn't bother with any make-up, knowing that it would just get messed up at some point during the day. Amelia sent me off to work with another hug for luck, and I promised to keep her updated via text message throughout the day.

Even though my day at work was about as busy as it had been the day before, it felt like it would never end. I felt like a kid on Christmas eve: I wanted the magic and the wonder to go on forever, but I wanted my presents _now_.

Time was a great big tease: at some points, it crawled like molasses going uphill during winter. At other points, it would surprise me by having jumped ahead by an hour or two. I was disappointed to not see Eric at all during my lunch break, but knowing that I'd get to see him for several hours that evening was enough to keep me smiling. When my workday finally ended, I felt like I was floating out of the office.

Eric and I had agreed that if we didn't run into each other in the elevator, we would meet in the lobby. He wasn't in the lift when I got on.

When I got to the first floor, I stepped out and saw him right away. The second he saw me, his face lit up and he started walking towards me.

* * *

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: And here it is, the first date! Also known as "Let's See How Many Atlanta References Sophie Can Feasibly Stick Into One Chapter." I'm not going to spoil anything up here, so I've got another note at the bottom with information and links about some of the places I've mentioned in this chapter.

* * *

**Eric POV**

All day Friday, I went back and forth between being a nervous wreck and being giddy with excitement. I couldn't figure out if Niall was more amused or irritated by that, but I honestly didn't have enough brainspace to care what he thought. The closer it got towards the end of the day, the more jittery I got. Niall tried to get me to leave early, but I didn't think that was a great idea. I'd rather be mildly insane in the relative privacy of our office than in the public lobby.

I wound up leaving my desk about fifteen minutes early. That gave me time to run down to my car and stash my messenger bag in the trunk. On the way back up, I stopped by the men's room to make sure I looked all right. With a quick mental pep talk and a few deep breaths, I was as ready as I was going to get.

Thank goodness I'd suggested we meet up straight after work; this waiting thing wasn't going so well for me, and I knew I only had a few minutes. An hour or more would have been damn near unbearable.

When I got back up to the lobby, she wasn't there yet. I panicked for a little while, afraid that she wouldn't show; while this was the main route in and out of the building, there were other exits she could have used if she wanted to skip out on me.

I checked my watch again and saw that it was a few minutes after the hour; when I looked up, I saw her. The sunlight that came through the windows behind me shone on her, making her look radiant. She took my breath away.

Her long hair was down, curling slightly at the ends. She was wearing a red top that looked loose enough to be comfortable, but was just tight enough to make my mouth go dry. Her jeans didn't help matters any, but I was relieved that she hadn't worn her favored flannel pants: I wouldn't have been able to get the idea of snuggling with her out of my head. And with thoughts of snuggling went notions of things that probably shouldn't happen on our first date, no matter how much I might want them to. I was glad to see that she was wearing sensible shoes; I'd forgotten to tell her that we'd be doing a fair bit of walking.

Best of all, she was smiling at me. All of my anxiety melted away, and I couldn't help but grin at her. I walked towards her, suddenly uncertain if I should hug her, take her hand, or what. It had been ages since I'd had a first date, and I didn't want to mess up.

"Hey," she said, "Sorry if I'm a few minutes late. You ready?"

"Yep. Did you drive?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't actually have a car; I take the train to and from work."

How had I not known that? "That actually makes all of this easier. We'll take mine."

We walked through the building, and once we got to the garage, I felt her hand slip into mine. I looked down at our hands and then up at her face. She was trying to act nonchalant, but I caught her eye and we exchanged what must have been the goofiest grins ever.

"Do you have any preferences as far as dinner goes?" I asked. "What are you in the mood for?"

"It doesn't have to be anything fancy. I'm not allergic to anything, and from the sound of it, we like a lot of the same foods."

"Would you be okay with burgers? I know a really good place near where we're going."

"Ooh, I'm always up for a good burger." She grinned, melting my heart just a little bit more.

When we got to my car, a red '67 Impala, I opened the trunk so she could stash her bag. With that taken care of, I opened the passenger door for her and helped her in. When I got behind the wheel and shut the door, she grinned.

"I'm not a huge car person, but this is a sweet ride!"

I laughed as I fired up the engine. "I know most people think of their cars as female, but this old guy's name is Vlad."

"Vlad?" She thought about it for a moment, then groaned. "Vlad the Impala. I can't decide if that's awful or awesome."

As we pulled out onto the main road in front of the building, Sookie turned slightly in her seat so that she was partially facing me.

"Now that we're officially on our date, do I get to know where we're going?"

"Nope," I answered. "And none of your tricks, not while I'm driving."

From the corner of my eye, I could see her pouting. I refused to look at her, knowing that seeing her lower lip stuck out like that would make me weak.

"Okay, okay," I relented. I was _such_ a sucker. "We're going to a really good burger place that's not too far from here, and then somewhere within walking distance of there."

That seemed to satisfy her. Since we were heading further into the downtown area, we were going against traffic; even so, it was pretty bad. I wasn't mad about that: it gave me more opportunity to look at her without getting distracted from driving.

* * *

**Sookie POV**

I could tell he was excited or nervous, or perhaps both, but Eric was more comfortable than I'd ever seen him. Conversation between us flowed just as easily as it had during our marathon phone call on Wednesday night.

I loved watching him behind the wheel. He was a very confident driver. The fact that I was comfortable in the car with him spoke volumes; I had a tendency to be a nervous passenger, but at least part of that was because Amelia normally drove like a bat out of hell.

When we pulled into a parking lot, I still had no idea where we were going. I wasn't really familiar with downtown Atlanta; whenever I went out with Amelia, we generally stuck to Little Five Points, Decatur Square, or the East Atlanta areas. The bars and clubs in those parts of town weren't nearly as expensive or snooty as the ones in Buckhead.

Eric helped me out of the car and didn't let go of my hand after he'd closed the door for me. He led me through the lot and around a corner.

For dinner, we wound up going to a fabulous burger place called Ted's Montana Grill. I considered getting their "naked" burger, just so I could tease Eric with the name, but ultimately couldn't resist their New Mexico burger. It had Monterey Jack cheese, roasted Anaheim pepper, and home-made guacamole. Eric got an astounding burger that was appropriately named the Kitchen Sink: it had American cheese, grilled ham, bacon, grilled onions, mushrooms, and an over-easy fried egg.

He was a big guy, but I still had no idea where he was going to put all of that.

I hadn't read the menu closely enough to notice that they used bison meat, but I tasted the difference as soon as I took my first bite. I wasn't able to contain the moan that caused Eric to look at me with a heated expression. Amelia had been right: he really did look like he was about to leap over the table at me. He caught himself almost immediately, which I found a little disappointing. The way he looked at me was yummier than anything I could order off of a menu.

He unintentionally got me back when he bit into his own burger and groaned. Hearing that noise from him, I completely understood the look he'd given me. I squirmed in my seat as I resisted the urge to lean over and find some random food molecule to lick away from his lower lip.

Uncertain of how to handle that, especially on a first date, I initiated a friendly but heated debate over whether Ted's burgers were better than the ones at the Vortex. With an adorable smile that was somewhere between sly and shy, Eric said we'd have to go out again so we could compare the two places. Just to make it clear where I stood on the matter, I reached across the table, placed my hand over his, and told him I would be delighted to go out with him again.

I wasn't sure if it was what I'd said or how I'd said it, but the way he smiled made me wish there hadn't been a table between us. Under us, maybe. Holy snapdragons, the way this man affected me shouldn't be legal.

We were too stuffed to even consider dessert. Eric didn't even let me look at the bill; when I tried to fuss at him for that, he said that when I asked him out, he'd let me pay. Somehow, I couldn't see that happening without some serious trickery on my part.

All throughout dinner, I'd noticed Eric looking at his watch occasionally; as we were leaving the restaurant, I decided to tease him about it when he did it again. Besides, I might be able to get some hints about the next part of our date that way.

"You keep checking the time. Are we on a schedule?" I asked. "Or are you going to turn into a pumpkin at a certain hour?"

He ducked his head and looked a bit sheepish. "Sorry. It's a habit, but I wanted to make sure we..." He paused before giving me a smirk. "You're a sneaky one, Miss Stackhouse."

"Well, I couldn't help but notice that we're right across the street from the Tabernacle. I've no idea who's playing there tonight, but are we going to a show of some kind?"

"Ooh. Good guess, but no. Are you up for a bit of a walk? We could find somewhere to sit if you need or want to sit for a bit longer."

"I'm good, so long as you don't get all power-walky on me with those long legs of yours."

I figured my face would be stuck in a perma-grin by the end of the evening. You couldn't wipe the smile from my face with a bucket of angry weasels. My cheeks were already starting to hurt, but I couldn't help it.

We had a slightly awkward moment when I reached for Eric's hand; I wanted to hold it again, just to be touching him. He upped the ante by getting closer and draping an arm over my shoulders. My arm went around his waist almost of its own volition, but I wasn't about to stop it. He fit so nicely against me; I felt so comfortable next to him, I wanted to stop walking just so I could close my eyes and enjoy the feel and smell of him. My heart did silly pitter-patters when he gave my a shoulders a gentle squeeze.

I couldn't help but smile when I noticed that we were walking down Luckie Street. I certainly felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

After a block or so, I started to get an idea of where we were headed. I sighed happily and gave him squeeze.

"You know," I said, "I've actually never been to Centennial Park before."

"Really? You need to come here sometime during the hottest days of summer."

I winkled my nose. "Why's that?"

"They specially designed the fountain so that it would be safe for kids. During any given day of summer, you can see dozens of kids of all ages and colors playing and dancing together. It's almost impossible to not feel happy, watching them."

I looked up at him and saw a brief hint of embarrassment cross his face. As tempted as I was to ask or hint that maybe he could be the one to bring me here on a hot summer day, I decided against it. I was trying to keep in mind that this was only our first date.

When we first got to the park, the fountains he'd mentioned were right in front of us. Since it was after dinnertime, there weren't many kids around. We strolled at an easy pace, taking the twisty path that rambled through the water gardens. Finding ourselves at the far end of the park, we looped around. I'd never realized how huge the place was; I wasn't paying attention to the time, but it was dark by the time we got back to the fountains.

Taking what I'm sure he thought was a stealthy look at his watch, Eric asked, "You up for some dessert?"

"Ooh, what are our options?"

"There's a little cafe in the park. The menu's a bit limited, but what they have is good."

He was right about the selection, but I was surprised to see that they had churros. As much as I liked them, I had a hankering for ice cream. When I ordered a scoop of rocky road, he gave me a strange look and ordered a double scoop of strawberry.

"You got something against rocky road?" I teased. I hoped he wasn't allergic to chocolate or something equally horrible.

"Not at all," he answered, confusing me when he flushed slightly. "It's just, that's what I always get whenever I come here."

I raised an eyebrow. I'd already noticed that we had a lot of odd little things in common; maybe he'd been picking up on that as well.

Eric suggested that we take our ice cream outside; I happily agreed. With it being darker outside, it was easier to pretend that we were the only people around. I didn't want anyone else intruding on my time with Eric.

A few minutes later, we were sitting on the tall steps that went partway around the Fountain of Rings. It really was neat to watch. Just as I was finishing up my ice cream, I heard a familiar tune start to play over some loudspeakers nearby. Was that...?

It _was_.

But why was I suddenly hearing "Under the Sea" from _The Little Mermaid_?

"Eric?" I asked hesitantly. I turned to see him grinning like a little boy.

He nudged me with his elbow and nodded towards the jets of water that were starting to spout and spray in time with the music. "Just keep watching."

I never knew a fountain could _dance_. I looked on in amazement as multi-colored lights lit up the jets of water from underneath. It was like watching liquid fireworks. There was no way I could avoid wiggling happily to the music.

When it was over, I jumped up and threw my arms around Eric's neck. Without giving it a second thought, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his.

Even without the hint of strawberry, I couldn't imagine anything sweeter. A kiss that started out as an exuberant expression of joy on my part quickly turned into something else entirely. He scooted forward and pulled me closer so that I was standing between his legs, pressed up against his chest.

As he pulled away, it took every ounce of willpower to not grab him by the ears and keep his lips firmly against mine. And while we might have been able to breathe through our noses in calmer circumstances, we were both panting like we'd just run a marathon. I let him pull me down into his lap and wrap his arms around me. He tucked my head under his chin, making me feel that much more securely snuggled.

As I leaned against him, listening to his heart beat, I never wanted the night to end.

* * *

I know some of you were hoping for this chapter to be as humorous as the other chapters, but it just didn't turn out that way. Eric and Sookie were quite insistent that there be more awws than guffaws.

Ted's Montana Grill – tedsmontanagrill (dot) com / GAAtlanta2 (dot) html – the menu is insanely drool-worthy.

In Atlanta's Olympic Centennial Park, the Fountain of Rings really was designed as Eric mentioned. If you ever fly into the Atlanta Hartsfield airport (or whatever they're calling it these days), there's a huge mural depicting a scene of children playing in the fountain.

The fountain is programmed with shows shows throughout the day, but they're best at night, when water jets go in time to music and lights. Here's a video, to give you an idea of what it looks like: youtu (dot) be / IMOhhTQiw8k. They really do play _Under The Sea_, but I couldn't find a night-time video of the fountains with that particular song (there are about eight different possible songs, if I recall correctly).

* * *

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: This chapter definitely has a "use the loo-first; no eating or drinking while reading" warning. And fear ye not: the next chapter is almost done!

* * *

**Eric POV**

I had managed to time our date so that we would be at the Fountain of Rings for the final show of the evening, which happened at nine o'clock. While I had seen nearly all of the different shows before, seeing one with Sookie made it that much more wonderful. If I was being completely honest, I'd say I got more joy from watching her reactions than I did from the show itself.

And then, that _kiss_.

I could have spent all night kissing her. I hadn't wanted to stop, but I _really_ didn't want to get carried away in public. If we hadn't stopped, it only would have gotten more intense; I knew that for certain. With her in my lap, snuggled in my arms, we talked for almost two hours. She seemed content to stay right where she was, and I was ecstatic to keep her there. As the time passed, she grew quieter; not talking less, just in a softer tone.

Eventually, I noticed one of the park's security guards had started heading in our direction. The minute I saw them approaching, I knew what was coming: the park was closing, and we had to leave. It was difficult to not growl at him; instead, I merely nodded and hoped that was enough for him to move on.

Sookie hadn't seen the guard, so she seemed a little surprised when I nudged her. Looking down into her eyes, I could tell she was starting to get sleepy. As much as I hated to burst our cozy bubble, I let her know that it was almost eleven o'clock, and we were being shooed out of the park. The adorably sleepy pout she gave me only encouraged me to kiss her again. That kiss was as intense as the first had been, but in a different manner.

After we stood up, I tucked her back under my arm; I didn't think she'd let me carry her, but I wanted to be as close to her as I could possibly get. We walked slowly back to the car; it seemed neither of us wanted the evening to end just yet. I had to keep reminding myself that our good thing wasn't _ending_; we were just putting it on pause for a few hours.

As much as I really hoped those hours were numbered in single digits, I didn't want to scare her off. The fact that I hadn't done it thus far was a good sign.

If nothing else, we both needed to get some shut-eye. Sookie had mentioned that Amelia had done a good job of distracting her the night before. I hadn't fared nearly as well, and had been running on adrenaline for most of the day.

I helped Sookie into the car, then went over to my side, slipping behind the wheel just in time to see her trying to stifle a yawn.

"Holy slap, I'm creepy."

I blinked, then turned to look at her. Did I hear that right? She had leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Momentarily distracted by seeing her in that position, I was still staring at her when she opened her eyes and turned her head to look at me.

"What?" she asked, looking confused.

"That's what I was about to ask you. What did you just say?"

"Um... 'Holy crap, I'm sleepy.' Oh my god, I switched my words, didn't I? I do that kind of thing when I'm tired. How did it actually come out?" She squeezed her eyes shut, but started giggling when I told her what she'd actually said.

I chuckled along with her and started the car. "It's called a spoonerism, I think. I remember my dad telling me about one he'd heard back when he was in college. One of his fraternity brothers had gotten him hooked on _General Hospital_, of all things. Back then, television was all broadcast live; there was no editing. During a particularly tense scene, one of the characters asked for a 'hypodeemic nerdle.'"

Sookie went from giggling to a full on belly laugh; it was infectious, and for several minutes we just sat there like a couple of loons, laughing until we had tears in our eyes.

"Oh," she gasped, "That's almost better than the one Jason did back when we were kids. Whenever he got into trouble for something that he'd obviously done, he would say that he hadn't done it, that it had been his evil twin, Skippy. Well, one day, it came out wrong, and he said something about his 'evil skin, Twippy.'"

At that point, I was laughing so hard that my sides were aching. Some tiny part of my brain that was still rational managed to turn the car engine back off. We were there for another ten, maybe fifteen minutes, just laughing and giggling like a pair of deranged hyenas.

A few times, we would start to calm down, our _ha-ha_s changing into _hee-hee_s. Then we would look at each other and start giggling again. Just when I thought we were finally done, Sookie muttered "nerdle" under her breath, and we were off again.

Eventually, we regained our composure long enough for me to be certain that it was safe to drive. The unfortunate thing about that was it felt like I'd gotten another wind. I could easily stay up a few more hours, but I wasn't sure the same could be said for Sookie.

I started the car again, "Where to?"

She pulled out her phone to check the time. "It's almost midnight, which means the only places that are going to be open are bars and 24-hour restaurants. And I don't know about you, but I'm not tired anymore."

I got a warm feeling when I realized what she was really saying: she didn't want the date to end yet, either.

"I'm not much of a bar person," I said. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really. You?"

I could always eat, but there was no way I was going to get what I was really hungry for. I shrugged, hoping it came across as nonchalant. When she bit her lip, I had to bite my tongue before I asked her if she needed help with that.

* * *

**Sookie POV**

"Would you like to find somewhere to hang out and talk?" Eric asked. "Or should I get you home so you can get some sleep? I mean, I know you said you're not tired, but you _have_ been up a long time."

When I'd checked my phone earlier, I'd seen several missed text messages from Amelia; she wanted to let me know that she was going to be out for the night, and that if came home from my own date, I shouldn't wait up for her. I fired off a quick response letting her know that my night was going well and hoped hers was, too.

That meant that if Eric and I wanted to go back to the apartment I shared with Amelia, we'd have the place to ourselves. There were so many ways in which that was both a good and a bad thing.

"I could really go for some hot chocolate," I said.

He nodded. "Ooh, that does sound good right about now. You know of any places we could get some at this hour?"

Without thinking, I responded, "My place."

He was doing it again. Eric was looking at me like I was an oasis in the desert. I felt a slight twinge of anxiety, wondering how on earth I'd find the nerve to tell him that if he was going through a dry spell, he had nothing on me. I knew all about the things I wanted to do with him, but I'd never actually done any of them.

And as much as I wanted them, I didn't want them to happen tonight. I liked where we were. It was fun; I had the feeling that once we got serious, it would stay that way. It wouldn't be serious in the sense of not being fun anymore, but it would almost certainly be way more intense.

I liked flirting. For all my shyness, I was good at flirting. That's basically what I got paid to do. I had no idea if I was good at what came _after_ flirting. I tried to diffuse the intensity of the moment by letting out a small chuckle.

"Wow, so you really like hot chocolate, huh?"

That seemed to snap him out of it, but it also seemed to make him feel awkward. I reached out and grabbed his hand to hold it.

"Hey, it's okay. Tonight we had a lot of fun walking around together. I have this crazy notion that we're going to be walking in the same direction for at least a little while. Just because we know where we're currently headed, doesn't mean we have to run there."

He smiled as he looked down at our joined hands. "You're right. I like walking with you, Sookie."

And just like that, we were back in a comfortable place. He took his hand back long enough to get the car running. He stopped the car at the exit of the parking lot and turned to me.

"You know how to get to your house from here?"

"Eep. Um. I know how to get there on the trains. Can you get us to Decatur Square? I can give you driving directions when we're a little closer to home."

"Sure thing."

Neither of us had any interest in being stuck in the Friday night traffic. It wasn't as bad as it would have been in Buckhead, but apparently we were close enough to Underground Atlanta for there to be a fair number of people still driving around. Luckily, he seemed to know the downtown area well enough to take us down some of the less-busy side streets. Once we were within a few miles of my apartment, I was able to take over directing him through the side streets. We managed to get home in half the time it would have taken if we'd taken the main roads.

When we got into my place, I saw that Amelia had left a note on the kitchen table.

_Sooks,_

_Went out on a hot date, hope yours went well. Text me when you read this so I know you got home okay. Deets at brunch?_

_'Meels_

I grinned and got out my phone so I could let her know I was indeed home safely. If her night was going well, she wouldn't be reading it anytime soon, but I knew she'd check her phone before she passed out.

"Have a seat and prepare to be amazed. My hot chocolate isn't as good as what 'Meels can make, but it's up there."

Eric grinned and took a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

"Is this a secret recipe, or can you tell me what you're putting in it?" he asked.

I grinned. "The way I make it isn't a secret: it's just milk and Nutella."

"Nutella? What's that?"

I turned to gape at him. "You're kidding. You've never had Nutella?"

When he shook his head, I reached into the silverware drawer to get out two spoons. After getting the lid off the jar, I took one of the spoons and scooped up a little bit of Nutella. I walked over to Eric, holding out the spoon, but at the last minute, I stuck it in my own mouth instead.

"Hey, that's not..."

I cut him off with a kiss. When our mouths opened to each other, he moaned and snaked an arm around my waist so he could pull me closer. It felt like he was trying to devour me. I melted against him, but jumped when I heard something clatter nearby.

The spoon. I'd dropped it. I pulled back a little and smiled at at him. "So... hot chocolate?"

He took a deep breath and shook his head before leaning his forehead against mine.

"Are you okay?" I asked nervously. He'd closed his eyes and his brows were furrowed, as if he was trying to concentrate.

He opened his eyes and gave me a look that was simultaneously intense and gentle. "I'm wonderful. But I think I'll just stick to water for now."

"Oh. You didn't like it? I think we have some Hershey's..."

He cut me off by placing a finger against my lips. Once I'd quieted, he gently ran a thumb across my lower lip. "It was delicious, but now I'm not going to be able to taste it without thinking about all of the things I want to do with you. As much as I want you, I also want to respect your wishes about what _you_ want."

My stomach clenched with need. And anxiety. It must have shown on my face.

"Did I say too much?" he asked, frowning.

I gulped and shook my head; when I opened my mouth to speak, nothing came out. My throat felt dry, so I tried clearing it to get my voice back.

My brain was tossing out suggestions, right and left. _Tell him you want him. Tell him you want to wait because you think this is something special. Tell him you want to savor it slowly. Or tell him you don't want to wait and then give him directions to the bedroom; maybe he'll even carry you there. Tell him something. Tell him anything. Don't leave the poor boy hanging. Hell, offer him a glass of water or something. Just don't mess this UP. For Pete's sake, _say _something._

But none of that came out.

Oh, it wasn't that _nothing_ came out, no. My mutinous mouth blurted out the truth before I could stop it.

"I'm a virgin."

* * *

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Sorry for the delay! I really didn't mean to leave y'all hanging like that. This chapter was stubborn, didn't want to be written. My brain is heading off in a few other directions, but that might just mean I update one of my other stories before the next chapter for this one drops. We'll see. The muses, they are fickle mistresses.

* * *

**Eric POV**

What?

No, she couldn't possibly...

I blinked and looked at Sookie.

She was standing about a foot away from me, eyes wide, with a hand firmly clamped over her mouth. She hadn't meant to tell me that way, and it was something I never would have guessed on my own. It never would have occurred to me.

Wait... _what?_

She looked like she was about to bolt. I suddenly became very aware of the positioning of my own body, and realized that I must have looked the same way to her. We were a pair of deer frozen in each others headlights.

If there was a contest to tell which of us was more stunned, I wasn't sure who would win.

"...How?" I asked. _Brilliant question, genius._

She snorted at the silliness of what I'd just asked, then started giggling. "Um, more of a not-how."

"Are you serious?" I couldn't believe it. This gorgeous woman - this sex-voiced, goddess-bodied woman – had never...?

_What?_ How was that even remotely possible?

I wasn't one of those guys who thought it was "hot" to take a woman's virginity. From what I'd heard, it was most likely to be painful for women. If two experienced, consenting adults were into pain, more power to them; it wasn't really my thing. But with a woman's first time, it wasn't like she could choose whether or not it would hurt; it was a matter of biology, as far as I understood it.

The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt this beautiful woman standing before me.

Sookie straightened up, squared her shoulders, and walked back over to the kitchen counter. After putting away the milk and Nutella, she grabbed a kettle from the stove and started filling it.

"How does tea sound?" she asked, sounding normal as ever. I think that only stunned me more; we'd just had some kind of crazy moment, but she sounded as calm as if she'd only been telling me the latest baseball scores. Then again, she used her voice for a living; it made sense that she would have excellent vocal control under duress.

"Um, tea sounds good."

"Okay. If you have no objections, I've got a really nice herbal blend that I think would be really good right now. Let's just take a moment to chill out. When the tea's ready, we can take it into the living room and sit and talk."

I nodded and watched as she prepared the tea, finding it soothing to observe her going through a set of familiar motions.

When everything was done, Sookie handed me a mug and beckoned for me to follow her. We walked into what I assumed was the living room, since it had all of the standard living room stuff: a couch and loveseat set, a television, a coffee table, the works.

We sat down on opposite ends of the couch, and I held the mug of tea up to my face, getting a good whiff of the steam. It had an immediate calming effect, and I was already feeling fairly calmed down.

"This smells really good. What is it?"

"It's a blend that Amelia made. She fancies herself a kitchen witch, if you buy into that stuff. Magical cooking, that kind of thing. Honestly, most of the time it just results in a damn good meal, but her teas are something else."

I took a sip, half expecting it to taste medicinal, but found it was rather pleasant. I could tell Sookie had added a little honey, even though I hadn't seen her do it. I must have really zoned out, back in the kitchen.

She turned completely sideways and stretched her legs out on the cushion between us. "Feel free to kick your feet up, once you've taken your shoes off."

Eyeballing the space between us, I was certain there wouldn't be enough room for my bean stalks. Still, I set my tea down on the coffee table, took of my shoes, and gave it a go. Not wanting to crowd her, I let my feet dangle off the edge of the couch.

"So..." I said, not really sure what I was going to say.

"So you probably don't believe me or you have a lot of questions. You know I grew up in a small town in Louisiana, right? And you already knew that I was mostly raised by my Gran after my parents died. She raised me the way she'd raised my dad, with her own generation's set of values and ideals. And since it was just the three of us – me, Jason and Gran – my big brother was really protective of me. Of us. No one was good enough for his little sister. There was always one reason or another to just put it off. I've gone on dates, I've had the occasional boyfriend here or there, but after a certain point..."

She sighed and took a sip of her tea. "Is any of this making any sense? Or am I just rambling here?"

"I think I see where you're coming from. There are a lot of valid reasons why a person would wait, and it's their life, their decision. I'm sorry for my reaction in the kitchen... It just... I never would have guessed."

She grinned wryly. "Because of what I do for a living?"

I chuckled. "Well, yeah. That's a big part of it, I guess. I'm trying to reconcile the two things in my mind, and it's kind of hard..." I could feel myself blushing at that word, and in the split second after I figured out why I was having that reaction, it all clicked into place.

The innuendos that weren't; the blushing; the flirting that was so much more alluring because of the hesitation behind it. She really was telling the truth. It wasn't that I thought she'd been lying, but I simply hadn't been able to _see_ it before. Now, it all made sense. I wasn't even sure if I could put into words, this complex simplicity of the woman before me: bold yet shy, confident yet hesitant, reaching out even through her moments of insecurity.

I wanted to be the one to help her clear away the shyness, the hesitation and insecurity, and I knew that the mere act of sex wasn't what would do any of that. Those traits required so much more. They couldn't be created, only encouraged to grow of their own accord.

These thoughts confused me; rather, it startled me that I had them at all. I was accustomed to my own intelligence, but _emotional_ intelligence was something else entirely. I was used to knowing myself, but understanding someone else was new to me. As a general rule, I didn't really _get_ people. Sure, I got the occasional flash of insight here and there, but this felt more important. There was something about Sookie that made me want to change that.

Whenever something fascinated me, I wanted to learn as much about it as I could. I would research it until I knew it backwards and forwards.

It wasn't enough to feel things for her or around her. I was fascinated by my feelings for her, and I wanted to know about _them_ just as much as I wanted to know about _her_.

"Hey," she said, poking at me with her big toe. "You're looking a little lost over there."

"Hmn? Sorry, mental tangent."

"Want to talk about it?"

"I'm not sure if I can put it into words just yet. My brains are a bit fried; it's been a long day." I looked her in the eye and smiled. "A very _good_ day, but a long one nonetheless."

She grinned and seemed to relax a little bit more. She finished her tea and set it down on the coffee table. As she sat back, she groaned and put her hands up to her face.

"Eric, I'm sorry."

I frowned. "What's wrong?"

"The tea. I'm so used to it, it only relaxes me... but I just remembered how drowsy it used to make me. Are you going to be able to drive? How far away do you live?"

Relieved that it was something so simple, I laughed. "I'm bigger than you, it may not hit me as hard as it did you. But if it does, and you object to me crashing on your couch, it wouldn't be the first time I've slept in my car."

She jabbed me with her toe again. "As if I'd make you sleep in your car. As long as you promise to behave, you're welcome to stay. And I swear, I really did forget how strong the tea was."

"Suuuuuuure you did," I said, winking at her. Next thing I knew, there was a pillow being flung at my head.

* * *

**Sookie POV**

"Ha!" I shouted triumphantly. Eric was a much bigger target than Amelia, and he wasn't wise to my pillow-throwing ways. "Gotcha."

Without moving the pillow that had fallen to rest in his lap, he leaned over and set his tea down. He picked up the pillow and set that down on the floor next to the couch. He leaned back, smiling like a Buddha with a secret. Calm, but with a very wicked plan.

Oh hell. I was in for it. I slowly started to pull my legs away, hoping he wouldn't...

And he did.

He was quick, for a big guy. I barely saw him grab my foot before he started tickling it mercilessly.

I couldn't help but react, being extremely ticklish, and when it became clear that he wasn't about to let up, retaliation became a necessity. I managed to wriggle myself into a position where I could yank my foot away, and before he had a chance to recover, I launched myself at him.

I'd taken him by surprise, but that wasn't enough. Pulling a trick out of my brother's book, I licked Eric's forehead. Nice and slow. Nice and gross. Pulling back, I found myself quite satisfied with the look on his face: confused, mildly disgusted, and completely uncertain as to what to do next. I could practically see his brain leaving screech marks in the air.

As I looked into his eyes, something in the moment changed; he seemed more pensive. Gently, he reached up to cup my face and bring it to his own. Without a word, he tilted our heads together and then promptly wiped his forehead against mine.

I groaned. "I totally deserved that, but you started it."

He chuckled. "Truce?"

"Truce," I agreed.

When I went to get up off of Eric, he wrapped his arms around me and held me in place. I relaxed against him, letting my head rest on his chest. I felt no anxiety, no concern that he might try to push me for more. The sound and feel of him breathing under me was almost hypnotic. He gently scooted us down so that we weren't bent at any uncomfortable angles; I draped over him like a Sookie blanket, but he was the one warming me.

"You still awake, Sookie?" he asked, a little bit later.

_Only barely_, I thought. "Mm-hmn."

"You should probably get into your own bed; you'll probably sleep better there."

"Nuh-uh," I mumbled. "Five more minutes."

He chuckled softly and stroked my hair. Right, like that was going to make me want to move.

When I opened my eyes again, the room was much brighter; it was morning. I was stuck between a rock and a soft place: during the night I had gotten nestled between Eric and the back of the couch. Our legs were entwined, my arms were curled up between us, and his arms were around me.

I heard Eric mumble something that sounded like my name, but I could tell he was still sleeping. Grinning like some kind of idiot, I snuck an arm around his waist and snuggled closer against him. I closed my eyes, once again lulled to sleep by the soft sound of Eric's breathing.

The sound of a door closing was what woke me up next. Amelia was just now getting home, whenever "now" was. I knew I should get up before she saw me and Eric snuggling on the couch; I'd never hear the end of it. On the other hand, if she saw us like this, she'd figure out for herself how our evening ended, and I'd be spared the third degree interrogation.

Since I'd heard her go straight from the front door to her bedroom, I figured she would think I was still asleep in mine. That was the only explanation as to why she was being so quiet.

When I felt him tense up, I pulled back a little and craned my head to look at Eric's face. Even though he looked apprehensive, he was still blinking the sleep away from his eyes. A slight bit of morning scruff made me want to kiss him, just to see what it would feel like against my lips.

"There's someone else here," he whispered.

"Yeah, Amelia just got home," I said, keeping my voice just as low as his. "I'm pretty sure she's by herself, so she'll probably take a shower before she comes back out of her room."

That seemed to relax him a bit. I hoped he wasn't too nervous about seeing my best friend again; the only other time they'd met was when we'd all had lunch over pizza. "Awkward" didn't begin to describe how all of _that_ had gone down.

He started wiggling, and I realized he was repositioning us so that he wasn't an inch away from falling off the couch. While he seemed quite content to have me draped over him as I had been before we'd fallen asleep, I had to pee like a racehorse. I gave him a smile and a quick kiss, and jumped up before he could stop me.

"I'm just gonna do some morning stuff, I'll just be a minute; I promise I'll be back before Amelia."

He pouted slightly, but nodded as he sat up. I went into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I gave my face a quick scrub, brushed my hair and teeth, and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. A shower would have been really nice, but I didn't want to leave Eric alone out there. Once I was presentable again, I went and knocked on Amelia's door. She'd just gotten out of the shower, and opened the door in her bathrobe.

"Hey 'Meels! You have a good night, I take it?" I grinned.

"Pff. As if: you're not getting a peep out of me until I hear all about your date. Pop a squat, spill me some beanies."

I blushed. "Actually, we came back here and kind of fell asleep on the couch. He's still out there."

"Ooh! Have you guys had breakfast yet?"

"Nope. We only just woke up."

"Awesome. He like waffles?"

"You know, I have no idea. We seem to have pretty similar tastes, so I'm guessing yeah."

"Good times. Gimme a few to get dressed and I'll make us all some waffle-noms."

I went back out to the living room after making sure to close Amelia's door behind me. Eric smiled broadly when he saw me, and got up to give me a hug. When he kissed me, I was surprised to find his breath was minty-fresh. That mystery was solved when I recognized the taste: Altoids. He confirmed that he did indeed like waffles.

Amelia came out and took over the kitchen. Eric and I sat at the breakfast bar, and I found that conversation between the three of us flowed better than it had before. It made me happy; I'd been concerned that things would be uncomfortable between the two of them, and that would put me in a strange position. I wanted them to like each other. Even though I knew she was itching for the details of the previous night's activities, she refrained from asking too much. We gave her a bare-bones run-down of what we'd done, where we'd eaten, but she didn't press the matter. The real Q&A tornado wouldn't touch down until about thirty seconds after Eric was out the door.

Instead of our usual routine of eating the waffles as they came out of the iron, Amelia made a stack of them and we sat at our little dining room table to eat.

"So what are you crazy kids up to today?" Amelia asked as she prepped her first waffle with butter and jam.

I shrugged. "I don't think I have any plans."

Eric gave a shy smile. "Me either. I should at least stop by my place for some fresh clothes, but aside from that, I'm open."

Amelia gave a thoughtful hum. "Oh, hey! I heard the Aquarium got a new whale shark recently. I was going to go check it out, but I've got to spend some time at the shop today."

Eric might have bought that, but I knew better. Still, I was amazed at how toned-down Amelia was being about all of this. I'd have to ask her about that, later.

Before I could even tell it was happening, Eric and I had plans for the day: we would go to his apartment so he could change, then we'd go spend a few hours at the Atlanta Aquarium.

Since Amelia had made breakfast – well, more like brunch, given that it was almost noon – Eric and I cleaned up in the kitchen. It wasn't too bad, since she had a tendency to clean up after herself as she cooked. Once we took care of the dishes and put a few things away, we were ready to get started on our day.

* * *

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


	12. Chapter 4 and a half

**A/N**: Remember, ages and ages ago, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, and I was writing this silly little fic called Destiny Calling?

And remember how I irritated the snot outta people by NOT posting the lunch scene with Eric, Sookie and Amelia?

But hey, remember how I _did_ write it, and donated it to Fandoms Fight the Floods?

No?

Me either.

Oh wait, I think I might remember that a little bit...

(If you're confused about where in the story this goes, it's snuggled right between chapters 4 and 5. But I did try to write it as a standalone thing, so you don't have to have read the rest of the story to find this potentially interesting/amusing.)

* * *

**Amelia POV**

This was it: the big day. For almost a week now, Sookie and I had been planning to get together for lunch. We didn't normally plan our meals quite so thoroughly. This was different. It was a special occasion.

Sookie, my best friend and roommate, was head over heels for a guy that worked in the same building as she did. They didn't work at the same company, but the kept running into each other in the elevators. From what she told me, I was fairly certain that he was interested in her. Given that he hadn't asked her out yet, I thought there were only two possible explanations: either he was just as painfully shy as Sookie, or he was flat-out gay. We'd already ruled out him being married, since he didn't wear any rings.

So today, I was going to meet Sookie for lunch. The excuse would be that she wanted to take me to a nearby pizza place that was supposed to have some of the best pizza in the area. In reality, we were hoping to run into this Eric fellow and maybe even get him to join us for lunch. I was pretty good at reading people; if he was into her, I wouldn't need much more than a minute or two. As long as we saw him in the elevator, it would be Mission Accomplished.

I got there early, and I did it on purpose: I was hoping to get an extra chance of seeing the mysterious Eric. From what Sookie had told me, there would be no mistaking him: blonde hair that was the same shade as hers, blue eyes, and eerily tall. While I was somewhat disappointed at not seeing him on my first pass-through of the lobby and elevators, it boded well: it meant that we had a better chance of seeing him on our way to lunch.

Which is exactly what happened. It was kind of strange, really: the elevator doors opened before we'd gotten a chance to press the call button. When we looked inside, there was only Eric. Whoo momma! No wonder Sookie fell hard for this guy. If she wasn't so adorably nervous over him, I would have tried to get a piece of his action. But I take "sisters before misters" very seriously; once Sookie was interested, Eric was off-limits.

I realized after a few minutes that watching Eric and Sookie interact was almost like watching an episode of National Geographic. I kind of felt like David Attenborough should be narrating in the background. _In today's show, we will take a look at the awkward mating rituals of the shy-birds in their native habitat. _I did suspect that trying to convince Sookie of what I saw going on between her and elevator boy would be more like an episode of Mythbusters. Goddess help me, I might even need to break out the graphing paper for the diagrams.

Even when we were just in the lift, the tension between those two was thick enough to eat it with a spoon. And what a yummy spoonful it would have been, if such a thing were even possible. But no, Sookie was taking her normal obliviousness to entirely new levels. _The female shy-bird sits on a nearby branch, preening her feathers, taking no notice of the nearby male who is unmistakeably attracted to her._

Once we left the building, I wrapped an arm around one of Sookie's and positioned us so that she was walking between me and Eric. It gave me a better vantage point; I could see both of them without feeling like I was watching a tennis match. The only problem was that I couldn't easily see the way Sookie was looking at him, but I was more curious about his reactions to her.

I already _knew_ my roomie was in deep smit, which made it harder for me to understand why she couldn't see that it was entirely mutual. _The female shy-bird, though covetous of the male's interest, appears to take no notice of what is obvious to all of the other nearby birds._

"So, Eric," I said, hoping to get some conversation rolling, "Sookie tells me you're a phone geek?"

Sookie shot me a dirty look, probably because I'd called Eric a geek. The fact that he chuckled was enough to indicate to me that he hadn't minded.

"I'll spare you the technical terms, but yes. I make sure the phone system at DeCastro is running smoothly. What sort of work do you do?"

I smiled. "Oh, I work in a shop in Little Five Points." I was purposely downplaying it. He didn't need to know that I owned the damn place. Besides, I wanted him talking about Sookie, not me. "I tried to get Sookie working there, but _noooo_, she had to do phone work."

Okay, that was a flop. My best friend only seemed to get quieter, something of an accomplishment, given how little she'd said. _The female shy-bird allows her companion to do all of the chirping, perhaps out of an irrational fear that any noise from her might cause the male's attentions to wane._

"Well," Eric said, "It can be satisfying to help people out when they're dealing with a really hard problem."

Oh, if he only _knew_. I tried my best to not smirk. He was obviously trying to come to her rescue, but he'd unknowingly made it worse. Sooner or later, he would find out that Sookie was a phone sex operator; I wondered how he would take it. I only hoped that she was the one to tell him. It would be more than a little awkward if he found out some other way. Teasing her about it was so old hat to me, I would really need to be careful to not slip up during this little lunch of ours.

"Oh sure, and Sookie gives great, um..."Oh hell, what was it she'd told him she does? "Customer service."

Eric looked at Sookie, then at me. She was blushing, and he was obviously confused. "Hey, that's nothing to be ashamed of. It may not sound like much, but it can be a really exhausting position."

_The male shy-bird attempts to protect his potential mate by deflecting what he sees as negative attentions from one of the female's companions. Little does he know, his efforts have only caused the female further embarrassment. In an effort to salvage the situation, the female redirects the male towards some berries on a nearby branch._

"Oh wow, that pizza sure smells great! I'm starved, let's go get some food!" I could hear the panic in her voice, and hoped Eric wasn't picking up on it. Maybe I only heard it because I knew her so well.

That pizza _did_ smell really good, though. It was a nice day out, and the restaurant had its doors open. The line was long, but it seemed to be moving quickly.

"So, Sooks, what's good here?" I asked.

"It's all good, really. I like their spinach Alfredo pizza, but even the plain cheese is good."

I couldn't resist. "How's the sausage?"

Sookie gave me a dirty look. "I thought you didn't like _sausage_ this week."

"Pff," I snorted. "It all depends on the quality of the meat. And it looks pretty... tasty." I shot a quick glance at Eric, who seemed to be focusing quite intently on the menu board, like he was trying very hard to not listen to our conversation. _The male shy-bird pretends to not notice the female interacting with her friend; undoubtedly, he is uneasy about his interest in her being too conspicuous._

Eventually we placed our orders: I got a slice of sausage pizza, Sookie got a slice of plain cheese, and Eric got a pepperoni calzone. If I didn't think it would have scared him off entirely, I would have made some kind of joke about Eric and his stuffing. As nervous as Sookie was around Eric, she could be fierce when it was just me and her. My pillow-dodging skills were almost as legendary as her pillow-flinging abilities. Almost. _The female shy-bird is anything but shy when left alone with other females; in fact, she can be quite aggressive if she feels that her virtue is called into question._

It would take a few minutes for our food to be ready, so we found a table to sit and wait. Since it was such a nice day outside, there weren't any open tables on the patio. We found a table near the front windows and made awkward conversation while we waited.

I was a take-charge kind of girl, but the whole purpose of this lunch was to see how Eric and Sookie interacted. I needed to tone myself down, pull back, and let the two of them chat. _If too closely observed, the shy-birds will avoid proceeding with anything vaguely resembling mutual appreciation._

Easier said than done. So I started teasing Sookie about her job, with innuendos that went completely over Eric's head. It didn't bug me that she was getting flustered about it, but I noticed that it seemed to be bothering Eric a bit. _In an interesting turn of events, the male shy-bird's feathers are ruffled at seeing his potential mate being pestered by one of her female companions. While he clearly wants to set the female at ease, he is unaware of how best to proceed._

I tried to change the subject by asking him about his job; once it became clear that I had no idea what he was talking about, he just trailed off.

Finally, the two of them started talking. I wasn't even paying attention to the conversation itself, I just watched the way they interacted. When she wasn't looking at him, he would stare at her like she was water in the desert. When he wasn't looking at her, she would eye him like the tall order of sex that he most certainly was. If the two of them weren't so obviously interested in each other, I would have hit that. With my naughty bits. More than once.

_The male shy-bird approaches the female apprehensively; he desires her attentions, but does not want to seem too eager, lest she be frightened away. The female shy-bird responds with perhaps too much enthusiasm, then pulls back as if she has startled herself. It would appear that they are simultaneously attracted to and terrified of each other. _

_Their interactions could almost be interpreted as an elaborate dance. To the impatient observer, it begs the question: will these two ever successfully mate? How could such a species manage to survive as a whole, when neither sex appears to be able to initiate, well, sex?_

_While they are distracted by the meal that they share, some of the tension eases between the two shy-birds. They have eaten together on previous occasions, and they seem to take some comfort in the familiarity of the act. The female shy-bird's friend attempts to fade into the background, so as to not impede the progress of this bizarre mating ritual._

Sookie went to take a drink of her soda, only to make a hideous slurping noise. Without a word, she stood up and went to get a refill. Once she was far enough away, I reached into my pocket to retrieve the slip of paper Pam had given me.

_By this time, the female shy-bird's friend is thoroughly convinced that the two shy-birds are a compatible match. When the female shy-bird flies away to partake of some water from a nearby stream, her friend approaches the male in hopes of bolstering his confidence._

When Sookie had left me standing in the waiting area of her workplace, her boss, Pam, was only too happy to keep me company. I hadn't minded: Pam was hot. So when she asked me what I was _really_ doing, visiting Sookie for lunch, I'd completely caved. What can I say? A woman that gorgeous was bound to make me weak. She'd been suspicious: my best friend had been more than a little nervous and fidgety when she'd asked Pam if it was okay for me to stop by. Pam had immediately known that something was up.

I told her all about Sookie and Eric, how they'd met in the elevator, and had been dancing around the fact that they both had the hots for each other. Pam was delighted at the intrigue that Sookie and I had cooked up. It was validating to find out that I wasn't the only one who thought this situation warranted a little hidden camera action of some sort. Or maybe Pam was just a voyeur.

Before Sookie had been able to come get me so that we could go to lunch, Pam had ducked into her office and returned with the scrap of paper that I was now holding in my hand. She told me that when Sookie wasn't around, I should give it to Eric. Of course, Sookie _had_ to come out to the waiting room before I got a chance to look at what was on the paper. Pam had been just as giddy over the idea of Sookie finding a boyfriend as I was, so I didn't think she would have written anything bad.

Trying not to think too much about that before it distracted me, I quickly held out the scrap of paper to Eric.

"Here, take this," I said in a hushed tone. "Don't ask. Just hide it before she gets back."

He looked too surprised to object, and so he took the paper and stuffed it into his pants pocket. _The male shy-bird cautiously accepts a leaf from his favored female's companion, but seems to be highly suspicious of her intentions. Sensing that she might be doing more harm than good, the female shy-bird's friend starts looking for a reason to make good on her escape._

I hoped I was doing the right thing. I really did have a good feeling about these two. I had the feeling that if they ever got past their insecurities and awkwardness around each other, they could have something really special.

Shit, it might not necessarily be meaningful. But it would definitely be hot. I knew damn well that when Sookie was in her element, she could be a force of nature. It baffled me that she was so shy around guys. If Eric was the same way, then when the two of them were comfortable around each other... well, I might need to invest in a pair of ear plugs. Or a hidden camera or two.

_When the male and female shy-birds finally engage in the act of mating, it is almost too passionate an act to be viewed on television. As much energy as they have put into their ritualistic mating dance, they would surely put equal amounts, if not more, into the act of procreation itself. Indeed, the producers of this show have decreed that such a display might be entirely too vivid for the younger viewers. As such, we are not able to air any of that footage._

In the interest of giving the two of them a few minutes alone, I decided it would be best if I skipped out early. When she got back from refilling her drink, I told Sookie that I'd gotten a call from the shop and had to get going. Even though she was giving me a look that could have stopped clocks, I waved cheerfully at the oblivious love-birds and damn near skipped out of the restaurant.

When I was safely back in my car, I grabbed my phone out of my purse and dialed Pam's number. At the very least, I'd promised to fill her in on how it all went. If I was lucky, I could get to tell her about it over breakfast. _The female shy-bird's companion is not of the same species; on the contrary, she is bold in her affections, and eagerly seeks out the attentions that she desires._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them; I just like to play with them a bit.


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